If Only
by DivergingFangirl5
Summary: What if Tris had a different experience at Dauntless? What if her moments with Four were meddled with? Anyhow, Eric is bad for her. He is helping Jeanine and that is something that will forever be a stigma between Eric and Tris. Definite Eris.
1. Prologue

**I must say that this idea has sparked when dardarbinx101 published 'Bound To You'. I was inspired by the traits she was illuminating in Eric and I just had to write this. Check out that author's stories, they are great.**

 **This is just an idea. So I am still not sure of how I will take this. But I do know one thing: I will try to make it amazing for you guys.**

 **Enjoy :)**

 ** _Prologue_**

"You have no muscle," he roars in his most condescending tone.

The sweat collecting at the top of Tris' forehead is evident. She has been in the training room for hours now. Even though she was in here for the exact amount of time as everybody else- Christina, Will, all of her fellow initiates- she looks the most exhausted. Her body is shattered. Physically. Mentally. Nobody is pushing her further than what is already expected from her. Nobody but Tris herself. The huffs coming from her reckless leader are only egging her on.

"You will never win a fight like that," Eric continues to discourage her. To his disappointment she only takes this as a boost of confidence. Her shoulders become more poised. Her fists more clenched. And her legs bent at the appropriate angles. Nevertheless, the newly equipped strategies do not sway the punching bag.

"That's good to know," Tris replies, gritting her teeth as blood starts emerging from her bruised knuckles. Still, she does not stop punching. Well, _trying_ to punch.

She can feel his eyes burning into the back of her head. He is watching. Always watching. More words were to come in abrupt shouts. They were lingering on his tongue, but he held back. If orders will not suppress her, then actions surely will.

Eric bit the inside of his cheek before bravely grasping one of her hips and pushing her until her body was parallel to his. She looks at him now, wide eyed.

Tris can see his nostrils flaring in anger.

"Hit me," he orders, letting his arms hang loose at his sides. Fear and embarrassment shows on Tris' face as she holds her arms in front of her. She is afraid that he will knock her out. Of course he will knock her out. She can see it now: her arm going in for a punch and his dodging it effortlessly. The next thing that would happen is she would wake up on a hospital bed. She has no reason to be embarrassed of herself right now, but to her dismay, her cheeks flush.

As if being the weakest one here isn't enough, in a second she will be beaten up by a Dauntless leader.

Tris takes a deep breath and holds it in her mouth before swinging her fist out and at Eric's chest. It barely startles him. There wasn't even the sound of a punch being thrown.

He becomes pissed off that his initiate is so hesitant. She is supposed to be Dauntless. She needs to be brave. Fast. Before the fear consumes her tiny body and spits her out onto the streets where the Factionless live.

He captures her wrist in his hand and twists it so that Tris ends up being pressed against his chest, her back to him. She gasps and splutters as his other arm presses against her throat. He holds it there for a moment, calmly.

"The attacker would've broken your neck by now," he murmurs near her ear, "Try again."

Eric releases her, giving her a forceful shove forward. It sends Tris straight into the punching bag. She is quick to recover. In a split second, her breathing stabilizes and her fists are back near her face.

Eric gives her a nod of approval. He eyes her fists and dodges another punch when Tris finally swings. A gasp escapes her lips when his arm wedges itself between her chin and collarbone, threatening to strangle her again. However, this time she sends her elbow flying into his gut. The impact loosens his grip and she manages to slip out. Her heartbeat starts rising now. She has never made it this far. From now on she can expect the unexpected. What will be his next move?

Eric recovers quickly and glares at her from where his feet stay glued to the floor, "Better," he spits, "But only because I went easy on you. In real life you would have been dead."

She doesn't say anything back. She simply continues to stare at him. His eyes seem to soften slightly as he straightens his back and folds his arms. After a while, he raises his eyebrows.

"Well, do something," he commands.

Immediately, Tris spins back around and starts throwing punches at the red bag. A heat crawls up her neck and onto her face when she doesn't hear disappearing footsteps behind her. He is still watching. One wrong move, and he will lash out.

From her peripheral vision, she sees Four making his way towards their little scene. He mumbles something to Eric when he is close enough, making Tris glad for another person to be near her. She can't be alone with Eric for long. Plus, he has no personal space. He always stands right behind her, watching.

They exchange a couple of phrases before both men walk away slowly. Tris turns around and breathes a sigh of relief. Her body relaxes momentarily.

But then her breath hitches.

Eric looks over his shoulder at her. His eyes are hard. His mouth is pressed into a straight line. And for the first time, she sees suspicion behind his grey orbs.

 **Please review and tell me what you think about this :)**


	2. Knives

**Thank you for all the positive feedback :) I hope you like the second chapter...**

Repetitive thudding echoes through the training hall as the initiates throw their knives. The aggressive sound would have made Tris jump or even walk away from it if she was still in Abnegation. But she isn't. She is Dauntless now. And she is getting stronger.

The girl squints her eyes and takes a deep breath before tossing her arm away from her body and loosening her grip on the weapon. The blade sticks right into the centre of the target where another two blades have made their homes.

She glances to her left where the two trainers are hovering. Four keeps pacing the floor with his arms by his sides, as if he is about to pounce on somebody. His eyes are worried. Eric, however, leans against the edge of a table, looking bored. His arms are folded so tightly that the ink on his arms threatens to seep away from his skin, evidently being squeezed out.

He catches her eyes for a second and holds her gaze. Tris is the first to look away. If she stares at him for too long, he would probably come over and start fighting her. It is too dangerous to even associate with him. One look could kill.

Yet, the obvious danger around her does not stop her lips from twitching upwards. She is hitting the target every single time. She is finally good at something here. And she would never doubt herself about her new talent.

"You're kinda good at this," Christina observes next to her, making Tris smile wider.

Al, on the other hand, is not good at it. Not good at all. Tris watches one of his knives hit the ground near the target. The sound of metal slapping against metal makes her cringe. She hops it wasn't too loud to attract the attention of anyone else but her.

"That was pathetic," Eric complains behind her. Eric. When did he get here?

Tris dares to glance back over her shoulder and surely enough, there he is. He is not looking bored anymore. He is looking pissed off. Kind of like he did when he first laid his eyes on Tris failing at fighting. His hair is slicked back neatly and his jaw is clenched tightly. Again, she looks away. This time, before he even manages to meet her eyes.

"It slipped," Al stutters, shrugging his shoulder.

"Well, go get it," the leader shouts, raising his chin higher to the ceiling. Is this how he makes himself look more intimidating? Because it works.

Tris contemplates saying something. Her mouth opens and a small squeak comes out but it is not loud enough for anybody to hear. Even her.

"What, while they're still throwing?" Al asks.

"Are you afraid?" Eric steps closer, glaring daggers into the former Candor.

Al seems to think his answer over before replying. He speaks with such confidence that it makes him seem fully Dauntless, "Of getting stabbed by an air-born knife? Yeah."

"Everybody stop!"

All movement freezes. The sounds of knives sinking into the stale wood disappear. Small talk between initiates crumbles away. Only Peter shuffles his feet slightly, but that is all. Nobody even dares to look away from what their eyes were focused on earlier. It seems like nobody is breathing anymore. Tris sighs when she realizes how quiet it actually is. And because of what? An asshole who thinks he owns the place?

"Stand in front of the target," Eric says softly.

Al doesn't question him. He limps over to the target like a bear who has stepped in a trap.

Tris feels his presence lingering behind her. He is so close that his hot breath blows past her neck. Or it could just be her imagination.

"Four, give me a hand here," he murmurs. Obediently, the second instructor picks up three clean knives and starts twirling them between his fingers, "You're gonna stand there while he throws those knives. And if I see you flinch… you're out."

Eric turns around to face the other initiates after he walks past the line drawn earlier by chalk. His silver eyes dance over the new members of Dauntless before stopping at Tris.

"One thing you will learn here is that orders are not optional," he states. Tris glances back at Al. Her eyes need to find a safe haven otherwise they would be burned by his animalistic stare. They gradually settle on the target behind Al which is when Eric finally walks away and goes to stand next to Peter.

Next to her, Four confidently tosses the first knife around in his hand, looking straight at Al. It takes her a second to realize that what is happening in front of her is completely and utterly wrong. This is not bravery. This is bluntly a man who takes his anger out on the weak ones.

Four raises his hand, preparing to throw the knife. But before he does, Tris finds her voice. This time she does not squeak.

"Stop."

Once again, an eerie silence falls in the hall. All eyes turn to her. They think she is insane.

"Anyone can stand in front of the target, it doesn't prove anything," Tris says matter-of-factly, shaking her head at Eric. A grin spreads around his face. A grin. No, he is not happy at all. It's fake.

"Then it should be easy for you to take his place," he says, tilting his head to the side.

 _What did I get myself into?_ Tris thinks. It would be too late for her to back out now. Not that she wants to do that. Oh no. She wants to prove her point. She needs to stand in front of that target and show everybody how ridiculous and stupid the teaching system in Dauntless is.

Her feet take her towards the target which Al abandoned only seconds ago. Her heartbeat starts to speed up when she catches the look on Christina's face. And then Will's and then Peter's. And then Four's. He looks slightly angry. At what, God knows. But this can't be a good time.

He visibly runs his tongue across the inside of his cheek before sighing. He raises his hand.

"Same rules apply."

 **Sorry for the abrupt ending xD I know how many times this scene was written about on fanfiction and I didn't feel like there was any point to write it out again. Nothing changes. Four throws his knives, cuts Tris and the scene ends.**

 **I am hoping to write more about Eris than Fourtris in this story. I don't want to bore or get on anybody's nerves.**

 **Review :)**


	3. The Fight

**Some of you preferred the non-canon chapters which I have to admit, vary throughout my stories. I prefer them too because it allows me to use more of my imagination. With this chapter, I have mixed some of the movie bits along with the bits I have made up myself. Obviously, they are all important to the story which is why I included them.**

 **With the later chapters, I will start to eradicate the movie aspects more because the plot will start to twist.**

 **Let's see what you think of this chapter. Not the best, but don't worry, there is so much more to come ;)**

Two days have passed since the knife-throwing incident, which earned Tris a place amongst the most respected initiate in the dormitory but the most unpredictable amongst the leaders. From time to time, she would catch Eric's cold eyes skimming over her body at dinner… and then Four's nods of approval as they passed in the halls. Both of these gestures evicted a satisfying feeling from her. She didn't know why.

Maybe she was finally beginning to fit in.

That didn't change the fact that she was at the bottom of the score board. Still. She only had three more days to boost upwards to reserve her unconditional place here at Dauntless headquarters. There was no question. There was no second choice. She had to make it.

"First fight: Peter versus Tris," Eric bellows as he storms into the training hall. As usual, all heads turn to him. But this time, the youth keep glancing at Tris. She begins to feel uneasy. Her stomach churns.

So the looks he was giving her were not a good sign.

At all.

"It's Eric," Christina scoffs, walking side by side with her best friend, "He's just trying to get back at you."

The leader hears her remark and turns to glare at the Candor. To Tris' surprise, she fearlessly folds her arms and returns his glare. It makes him roll his eyes and turn towards the rink. He is not in the mood to be fooled around with.

 _He's trying to get back at me,_ Tris thinks. Why did she not think twice before opening her mouth at knife throwing practice? It could have spared her life. She is getting paired up with Peter for a fight. Peter.

She starts towards the white mats in the middle of the hall where Peter is preparing his newly acquired muscles. Something stops her. A firm grip on her forearm. She tilts her head to the side and sees Four's serious expression. His brown eyes emit more warmth than she could have asked for.

"Watch yourself," he warns, "You are faster than him. Make sure you get the first hit," he glances down at his feet as if holding back on something. Then he releases her arm, "And watch him. He steps before he punches."

Four gives her a confident nod without seeming confident at all. His eyes are full of worry. It detaches his former self from the mysterious Four she has known from day one. Something is going on here. Perhaps he has no faith. And who can blame him?

With her heart drumming in her ears, Tris steps onto the mats, holding her breath when Peter turns to look at her. He has his usual grin plastered on his face.

"You alright there, Stiff?" he teases, raising his fists up to his face. Tris mirrors his movements, too afraid to say anything. With everyone watching. Her friends. Her leaders. Eric…

The only thought that wavers inside her head is to stay alive. She could try her best during this fight, but deep down she knows that Peter is stronger than her.

A wave of panic washes over her when Peter throws the first punch. Instinctively, she forces herself to the left, making him miss. There are a couple of 'woos' among the watchers. Probably Christina and Will.

It makes Peter livid. His smirk disappears in a split second and he clenches his jaw.

Tris dodges the next punch as well, taking him by surprise. She hears a loud sigh coming from one side of the room. It puts her off completely. It is filled with disapproval and boredom. She doesn't need to glance in the direction to know who it came from.

But she does anyway.

Eric's eyes glue to hers. The cold look is hiding something. There is a sheet of curiosity behind those orbs. And what else? Anger? Annoyance? What is he so annoyed about? She is dodging every single hit.

Suddenly, he nods towards Tris. Her heart skips a beat. And then she feels Peter's fist meeting her ribcage. Sharp pain shoots through the side of her body, making her groan. That is when she realizes…

He wasn't nodding at her, was he? He was signalling Peter.

Before another hit could be made, Tris backs away to the corner of the mat to regain her balance and clear her fuzzy head. She coughs once, thankful that no blood is pooling in her mouth. He really hit her hard.

A hint of Peter's smirk returns as he starts towards her. Tris keeps her eyes on his feet, waiting for him to step and then punch. She grits her teeth when her moment comes. Then she gets a jab into his throat, remembering Four's advice.

Pride overtakes her as he splutters. Her first hit and it made a difference. It makes Peter take a few steps back. That is something.

"Come on," Eric sings darkly, "Stop playing with each other."

Tris takes this as a sign that what she was doing was not enough. Her hair is tousled. Her mouth is hanging open. Her eyes are slightly narrowed. She is out of breath.

Peter's next punch comes unexpectedly. He steps so fast that Tris barely has the time to register it. And her slow thinking has reserved her spot on the floor. She hits her head against the mat, gasping for air. It tastes metallic. The blood seeping out of her nose has completely changed the way she breathed.

She dared another look at Eric. He was too busy watching Peter. And from her peripheral vision, she noticed a tall figure walking away. Was it Four? It looked like Four. A variety of things began to drift through her mind. One of those things was pure hurt.

He has nipped her ear with a knife the other day. Yes, he wanted to protect her from Eric but now that he has walked away from her major fight, it just proves that he simply does not care about her. That is a fact. She thought she could rely on at least one of her leaders to accommodate her but now that's out of the window.

Another sigh is heard nearby. _It's Eric again,_ she thinks. When she so stupidly turns to look, she sees a completely different man. His arms are still folded but his eyes are no longer hovering over her. His head is tilted upwards and his eyes are closed. He looks almost distressed. But then again… why would he?

Pain ripples through her head as Peter's foot finds the back of her neck. After that everything goes black. Everything except that vision of Eric.

 **Review and tell me what bits you liked :)**

 **By the way, if you have time to check out Fantastic 4, please do. Miles is amazing.**


	4. The Warning

**Bet you weren't expecting another upload in one day ;)**

 **This is a fairly short chapter. I wanted to upload it tomorrow along with some sort of extension but decided not to wait. Again, this is a movie scene but most of it is changed. There is a key quote at the end from Eric. Look out for that.**

 **Anyway, I ain't gonna spoil. So just enjoy his for now :P**

Her feet pound on the ground as she runs. Every step is agonizing. Her leg shakes as she swings it in front and lands her foot onto the gravelly pavement. The cold rush of air does not allow her hair to stick to the sweat collecting on her forehead. The wind dries it immediately, giving Tris Prior the chill she desperately needs.

The train starts gaining speed in front of her. She sees the light inside through the small windows. From time to time, a head passes by. That is where she needs to be.

When she woke up after her fight with Peter, Christina and Will were frowning down at her. Their looks said it all. Something was wrong. She should have realized that passing out mid-fight was not going to gain her any points on the board, and neither would it help her situation, (which was being stuck on the red part of the scoring board).

Tris asked her friends what her ranking was. That is when Christina started dragging everything out. She did not want to hurt her best friend with the news. The news that she was out of Dauntless.

A few tears escaped after everyone left the infirmary. Tris thought about her family. Was her father going to let her back into Abnegation? He would try to. He is a part of the council. But none of that would matter, would it? She would become that quiet girl again and she would never have the chance to be brave or climb walls or eat burgers or laugh as loudly as she wanted. Abnegation is not Dauntless. She would never belong there.

Without even the slightest hint of hesitation, she had abandoned her hospital bed, picked up her vest from the dormitory and started to run.

Now she is by the train. Still running. Still being brave.

Nobody had the right to kick her out of Dauntless. Not even Eric. This was her home.

A hand appears in front of her face and she grabs it, jumping onto the train. Her bruises ache when Four's arms lift her up to her feet in the train. After a hiss, she manages to look up at him. He is frowning.

"Thanks," she breathes, turning away. She was afraid that he would say something. Perhaps something about her being completely mad for even trying to re-join.

At the thought, she shakes her head. Four wouldn't say anything like that. But Eric will. Where is he?

"Uh, hey," Christina greets dubiously. Tris turns around to see her friend raising her eyebrows. A smile plays on her lips, "What are you doing here?"

"I just… I figured that I had to make it," Tris answers, running a hand through her tangled hair. Will comes to stand by Christina, looking at Tris in an awe as if he is watching a beautiful animal running free in the wild. His smile disappears along with Christina's as their eyes shift to behind Tris' shoulder.

She turns around.

"Who let you out?" Eric asks, glaring down at her. His icy stare sends jolts of electricity down her body. It takes her all the willpower she has not to start shuddering on the spot. Tris stares at him for a long time before answering.

"I did," she utters.

"Oh, you did?" his voice is full of fake amazement, like he is talking to a child. Even his smile widens and for a moment everybody around him believes that it is genuine. But Tris knows better.

His mouth forms a firm line once again as he steps closer to her. She does not back away. She feels the tension starting to rise in the atmosphere, silencing the whole train cart. One more step and he would be touching her nose with his. She knows this move too well. He is simply trying to appear bigger than he actually is. It is just a trick. It is just a trick.

Tris swallows her heartbeats as his eyes scan her face. His minty breath hits her forehead.

"Watch yourself, Stiff," he whispers, making sure that only she can hear his words, "Oh, boy, you have no idea what you just started."

With a shake of his head, he turns away, letting his eyes linger on hers. Once he appears out of sight, she catches Four smirking down at the floor. Did he not hear what Eric just said? Was that a threat?

Tris takes a deep breath.

"Well, that was weird," Christina speaks behind her.

"Yeah," Tris whispers.

Whatever Eric meant before, surely couldn't have been complimentary.


	5. Confrontation

**And here I let my imagination fly...**

 **Hope you enjoy :)**

They did it. They captured the flag. The midnight wind blew through Tris' hair, tangling her frayed ends. It would be a pain to brush it out later, but none of that mattered. She captured the flag. Along with Christina. And they won for their team.

The game was simpler than Four made it out to be. Tris wasn't sure if the positivity coming from her friends had somehow egged her on to speed through the war game and strive to win it but wherever that confidence had come from, she could not lose it now. This is what being Dauntless is about.

Once they get back to The Pit, everyone jumps towards the nearest bar to celebrate tonight's victory. Well, everybody but Eric's team. As soon as they stepped foot in Dauntless headquarters, most of them went to bed. Tris does not understand how a loss of a silly game could make those people so depressed. She knows a lot about losing. But she would never let it get to her head like that.

She slides her hands into her pockets after tying her hair into a ponytail and starts walking through the cheering crowds. She loses Christina and Will along the way but from where she is standing, Al's silhouette is visible near the rocky walls. It is the biggest silhouette she has ever seen.

A smile spreads across her face as she starts recalling events of the afternoon. The way Four smiled when she got on that train. The way his eyes lit up when she started waving the bright flag for everyone to see.

And now he was here.

In his circle of friends, with a cup of whatever alcohol the Dauntless can mix. And he was coming towards her.

She tenses up and glances down at her feet nonchalantly, thinking of what she would have to say. Would his cryptic character return? Did that little smirk mean anything before? Perhaps that was a little slip-up. Surely he cannot change his attitude that quickly. But as he gets closer, she notices crinkles at the side of his eyes. His pupils are dilated. Part of his mouth is curled upwards.

"Tris," he murmurs, lifting his metallic cup towards her face as if toasting her. She smirks and raises an eyebrow.

"Are you drunk?"

"No," he says, "That would be highly unprofessional." She has never seen this side of him before. Who knew that a little alcohol would be enough to crack the cryptic Four?

She feels her cheeks heat up as he steps back, as if contemplating whether he should be behaving this way. All of a sudden, his face turns serious, like some wizard just snapped his fingers and brought back the Four she knows.

"I just wanted to say that you were great tonight," his voice is lower than she has ever heard it, "You were brave."

The music was thudding away through the walls of the compound, giving the impression it was making the place vibrate. For a moment, Tris wondered if she would see little crumbs of wall rock sprinkled around the floor tomorrow.

"Yeah," she mimics his tone, lowering the volume of her voice. Four stares at her and nods to himself before turning to walk back to his friends. Before he reaches the circle, he glances over his shoulder.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

SHSHSHSHSHSHSH

The atmosphere near the chasm is tranquil. A light breeze passes Tris' feet as she swings them back and forth, watching the water splash against the rocks below. The thudding of the music on the other side of the wall keeps her company. Sometimes she hears a series of shouts accompanied by loud chanting. The Dauntless are performing a dare. And it probably involves alcohol.

Tris tips her head back and sighs. She feels tired, but going to sleep now would mean that I would be the end of his day. And she loved this day. Just sitting here and breathing in the musky air and listening to the most R&B music that ever existed really made her feel content. What a perfect way to end the day.

"Fancy seeing you here," a familiar voice purrs behind her. She turns and sees Eric walking across the bridge, making it clang. Her heart catches in her throat when she sees that his vest is gone. He is wearing a simple black shirt. And it suits him. His shoulders are broader, causing him to stand even taller than usual.

She should go. What does she have to say to Eric? Things would either get awkward or weird.

Tris starts pushing herself up to stand but a firm hand on her shoulder pushes her back onto her ass. "Don't mind if I join you, do you?"

He makes himself comfortable next to her without even waiting for an answer. She watches as he lowers himself to her level until his feet are dangling off the edge too. One of his hands brushes up and down his wrist, as if his black tattoos have overstayed their welcome.

"Thought you would be crying in bed," Tris says, daring a glance at his face. He growls quietly like a pissed off lion. Why did she have to say that? Christina is right. She has a death wish.

"Don't get cocky, initiate," he warns, glaring down at her, "From what I know, you still have the second stage of training to pass. But before that, let's see if you have scored yourself enough points."

She releases a huge breath when his eyes travel elsewhere, but it doesn't last long enough. From her peripheral vision, she sees him staring down at her again. She bites the inside of her cheek in case her nerves activate and make her smile. He doesn't seem to notice how uncomfortable she is.

Tris breaks the silence.

"Don't you have leadership stuff to do instead of sitting here with me?"

Eric scoffs slightly and props up on his elbows in a lying position, staring up at the ceiling.

"I'm taking a break," he says, turning something over in his mouth. Tris hears him chewing and guesses that it is gum, "I wanted to offer you a deal."

He speaks quietly now, like he is trying to condense a secret that blew out of proportion. Tris tenses up, thinking of how he watches her behind her back right now. Suddenly she starts feeling self-conscious. What is her hair looks like a mess back there?

"I have initiation to concentrate on," she dismisses him, causing him to roll his eyes. She knows he rolled his eyes by the way his tongue clicks. With one gentle shove, he could send her cartwheeling into the water below. But even as she thinks of this threat, something rises inside her, making her brave. He wouldn't do it. He would get kicked out.

Eric ignores her and continues talking. What he says makes her hairs stand on edge, "We are trying to help special members… Divergents," he sits back up slowly, watching for any sign of defeat, "They seem to have a hard time during the second stage of training and what we, the leaders, want to do is identify those people and help them… so that the results of training are fair to the people who are not Divergent."

Tris glances at him and sees a smirk curling his lips. Why is he telling her this? She knows that he is not that stupid to trust the nearest initiate.

She remembers how Tori looked at her the day her aptitude test was inconclusive. She made it clear that her Divergence was the last thing she should talk about. She told her not to trust anyone. Not even family. But Tris still didn't know why.

She decides to stick to Tori's advice. Eric is the least trustworthy person out of the two.

"We just want to help them," he fakes a smile, shrugging his shoulder, "You'd help me with that, wouldn't you?"

Tris swallows long and hard before pressing her lips together, "How would I help you?"

He leans in closer until Tris can smell the mint on his breath, "Are any of your friends hiding any secrets?" His brow quirks up as he observes her reaction, "Have they ever told you about being Divergent? Have they shared their aptitude test results with you?"

Tris' long pause catches his attention and he shuffles closer to her, resting a hand on her knee, "It's nothing to be afraid of. We just want what's best for them."

She starts breathing deeply, staring down at his muscular hand. She needs to answer him. Otherwise he will know she is hiding something.

"No," her voice comes out raspy. She clears her throat and repeats, "No. I don't know anybody who…" she trails off, feeling highly uncomfortable. She has never been good at lying. But the important thing is that he is not suspecting her. She needs to hold this out until the end of initiation and then she won't have to talk to him ever again.

Eric leans back and sighs in frustration, trying hard not to show it, "Okay." For a moment, he waits to see if she will say anything else. But the quivering girl stays tense, staring at the rocks in the distance with her mouth shut tightly. He is not going to get anything out of her today. He needs to earn her trust, "I'll take you back to the dorms."

In a split second, he is on his feet with his hand extended towards her face. She takes it. And they start towards the dormitory.

Tris' heart is hammering inside of her chest as they walk side by side. The awkward conversation replays in her head. He wants to find the Divergents. But why? Why are they seeking them out? What is she?

She watches the Dauntless pass them by in the hallways. Most of them are laughing and high fiving and being too loud. Dauntless-loud. Eric looks like the kind of leader who is likely to stop them and yell for running in the corridors, like a strict teacher.

"Here we are," he pipes up, stopping directly in front of the door Tris needs to go through. She looks up at him and gives him a small smile. He is too close. Something tells her that she needs to run away now. Before it's too late. Before she makes the biggest mistake of her life.

"Thanks," she murmurs reluctantly, wrapping her arms around herself.

"If you suspect anything, let me know," Eric says, "And if you keep something from me, I will find out." Automatically, Tris glances at the cameras above her. He _would_ find out.

"Yeah," is all she can say. She makes a brief turn but his grip on her arm stops her. She turns around, clenching her fists. For a moment, she thinks we will have to fight a Dauntless leader. All of that to preserve her deepest secret. But he isn't here to fight. He does something else. Something more unexpected.

His powerful fingers grip her tiny chin, keeping her head in place. And then he kisses her. Hard.

 **Please review and tell me what you liked and what you disliked :) It helps me improve the future chapters.**

 **Also, thank you to dardarbinx101 for supporting me during this series, and exchanging a few words about how I might make it better.**


	6. Bagging Up Problems

**I have nothing to say other than: Please enjoy this chapter :)**

Tris had her first ever kiss, and she had to be honest with herself: it wasn't how she imagined it would be.

After a strangely peaceful breakfast, all transfers and Dauntless born made their way to the front of the hall where the scoring board stood. It was blank. No electricity was running through the hidden wires yet. The chatter which was bubbling up started to echo across the walls as it got louder. And the louder it got, the more nervous Tris started to feel.

"Initiates!" a deep voice boomed above them. At once, all the youth tilted their heads up to figure out where the voice was coming from. Tris scanned her eyes over the railing and rocks until they finally settled on Max. He looked grumpier than usual. But that wasn't enough to take Tris' mind off how anxious she felt.

Last night she was left stunned in front of the dormitory door. It took Eric five quick seconds to seal her mouth shut with just one kiss. She knew exactly what his intentions were. He didn't want her to blab about what he told her regarding the Divergents within Dauntless. The kiss was a way of showing it.

At least that's what she _thought_. But what would a Stiff know about secrets behind kisses?

She had no choice but to shrug the whole affair off her shoulders. Flirting with a bunch of leaders would not help her. Well, it would help her. But she wasn't that kind of person.

"I'm sure y'all know why I gathered y'all down here," Max starts, gripping the railing in front of him so hard that his knuckles turn white. What is he so angry about?

Al folds his arms among the initiates, looking up at the speaker. Tris sees the same expression on his face that she has acquired. She is not the only one worrying.

"If you're ranked above the red line, you'll move onto the next stages of training," Max speaks, "If you're below it, we'll waste no more time on you."

He leans back and glares down at the group of initiates, scanning the crowd carefully. His eyes glue to Peter. Then he tears them away and gestures to the board with his thumb.

"Here are your rankings."

Everyone seems to lean in slightly as the room turns silent. The only audible sound to Tris is her heart beating out of her chest. If she doesn't pass this, she will be Factionless. She will get cut and lose her friends and Four. And Eric. The same can be said about her family. There will definitely be no way for her to see them if she is Factionless.

Absent-mindedly, she crosses her fingers. And then the results come up.

The first names she sees is Edward and Peter. They seem to blur together as her eyes desperately search the board for her name. Where is she?

"You made it!" she hears Christina yell behind her once the cheering starts. Tris squints to see her name and shakes her head. Her name is not at the bottom and it is not below the red line. So where is it?

Her eyes travel further up and widen immediately. She is in third place. It's Edward, then Peter and then… her. She is in third place? How is that possible?

"Wow, congrats," Al mumbles as he claps her shoulder. There is a hint of jealousy in his voice. Peter's eyebrows furrow when he finds her name. He turns around to glare at her. The Stiff is in third place? She failed almost every fight and now she is one step closer to overtaking him. Tris doesn't get it either. She shrugs apologetically as her lips find a smile.

There is no explanation for this. What did she do over the last couple of days to deserve third place?

The cheers slowly start dying down. Tris turns around and finds the reason why. Everyone rushes out of the hall, cheering and clapping and chanting. Another celebration?

Gradually, almost everyone leaves. Her heart starts pounding again, but this time in a good way. She has never felt so good about herself before. She was almost as good as Peter.

Tris' thoughts fly out of her head when a wrist presses against her neck and pushes until her back slams against a wall. Her eyes widen. Peter's livid face fills her vision. This can't be good.

"How are you ranked so well?" he demands, pressing so hard that she starts chocking. Her hands fly up to hold his wrist in place.

"Are you crazy?!" Christina yells behind him, beginning to slap at his back. Will holds her arms, muttering something into her ear soothingly.

Tris concentrates on the rage building up behind Peter's mask. His character is starting to show more and more. She didn't know this much rage even existed.

"Are you going to answer me, Stiff?" he asks, getting his face right into hers before shoving again, "Answer me, you bitch!"

At that, a sudden flashback wakes Tris up. She remembers one of her first lessons with Eric. The day he nearly strangled her. He taught her how to fight off an attacker. Sure, it was a completely different situation, and Eric was behind her at the time, but if she uses the same knowledge, she would have a chance of overpowering Peter.

Instinctively, her foot soars up to his stomach, kicking him with the least amount of force. He groans slightly. She kicks again. And again. And again. Until he finally backs away.

When his wrist leaves her neck, she grasps her throat, gasping for air. Her vision blurs slightly, but she is still able to see Christina, Will and Al rushing up to her. One of them wraps an arm around her waist to hold her up. She didn't even realize how faint she feels.

"Stay away from her," Al shouts near her ear. She knows now that it is Al who wrapped his arm around her.

"Asshole," Christina mumbles when she is close enough. Her hand finds Tris', "You alright? Okay?"

Tris nods.

People like Peter shouldn't be allowed at Dauntless. If he can't handle losing- but not actually losing (yet) - what is he going to be like in the future? Everybody wants to stay in. But with Peter it's different. He wants to be first. But he can't be. Edward is first.

And Tris is catching up.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

A cluster of Amity perch up against the back of a truck, pulling in heavy sacks of supplies which are handled first by Dauntless. Those sacks will be transported to Erudite for tests, then they will be distributed to Candor, and then the Candor members will send them back to Amity. The whole process seemed like a waste of time to Tris. Why would Erudite want to double check on the city's cotton supplies?

That was one of the questions that could not be answered straight away.

Tris drapes one of the heavy weights on her shoulder and tosses it to an Amity member on the truck, who smiles politely at her. She turns back around and grabs another sack from one of the Dauntless. And then she does the same thing. Until the truck is finally loaded. Then she moves onto the next one.

"So… we pass the first stages of initiation and this is our reward," Christina says cheerfully, rolling her eyes at the smiling Amity man, "We should be having a party. Not performing free labour."

Tris smirks at her friend as she goes to pick up another sack, wiping some dust off her shoulder where the previous bag has rested.

"This is what Amity call fun," she grins, hanging the sack off her arm as she walks to the truck side by side with Christina.

"Tossing heavy bags onto trucks," Christina laughs, "If alcohol was involved, this would be a Dauntless job."

"And an Erudite one if we wore spectacles," Tris laughs.

"And Abnegation if we chewed on stale bread," Christina tosses the bag into the truck by herself, giggling.

Tris rolls her eyes as she continues her job. No matter how boring being in Abnegation was, now she misses stale bread more than anything. She supposes that nobody ever has the ability to appreciate the simple things in life, once they are still there.

"Stop complaining," a deep voice cautions behind her. At the closeness, she drops the sack, cussing under her breath. It makes the loudest thud and causes at least half of the people there to turn and look. Her heart starts racing as she picks it up, frantically searching for a place where the bag could have split open. She finds nothing and sighs.

When she turns around, she sees him. For the first time since the kiss.

Eric.

He has a crease between his brows, illustrating a tinge of annoyance.

"Sorry, it's just heavy," Tris tosses the bag onto the truck and turns around quickly, hoping he has walked away by now. He hasn't.

"It's 'just heavy'?" he folds his arms, standing right in front of her. Her breath hitches in her throat as her back finds the truck's hard surface.

She doesn't answer. His cold stare sends shivers down her spine. Her stomach cartwheels wildly, sending a mob of butterflies all around her body until her thighs start shaking. Eric notices her reaction and a twitch shows up in the corner of his lips. He conceals it well. It is like he was frowning all through their interaction.

"If I see you drop anything again, an extension task will be settled upon you," he glances at brightly dressed people in the distance, "I'm sure they will appreciate your enthusiasm," a smirk slithers across his face. Tris has the need to say something clever back, but something stops her. She simply nods, and looks down, as if she is still in Abnegation, "You are excited about carrying more sacks onto the vehicle, aren't you?"

Tris shakes her head, nipping her bottom lip.

She cannot look him in the eye. If she does, the image of last night will pop into her head. The way he stared at her after the kiss. The way he licked his lips. She takes up all of her willpower not to smile at the memory, or even put a finger to her mouth.

"With all due respect, what are you doing here?" Christina surprises everyone. When Eric turns, Tris sees her raising her eyebrows, as if her question is at all appropriate. Nevertheless, Tris takes this chance to step away from Eric and move onto the next set of sacks. Eric barely notices.

"I have to be here," he answers calmly, "Do you not think I have more important things to do? I'd rather be hanging off a cliff with an explosive strapped to my chest than stand here, encouraging immature wannabes to toss fucking bags."

Tris doesn't understand where Christina finds the courage to answer to that. Especially now that he has cussed. That means he is pissed off.

"You mean _trying_ to encourage," she says, shaking her head.

What is she thinking? Doesn't she remember how he hung her over the chasm?

Eric glares at her with his hollow orbs before tilting his head upwards to where a man calls him over. He follows his voice, not hesitating before bumping his shoulder into Christina's. She winces.

Tris wonders why Eric really _is_ here. He is a leader. Not a sheepdog.

She watches as Christina picks up another bag and tosses it onto the trunk. A small smile illuminates her face.

"Now who has a death wish?" Tris grins.

 **Review and tell me what you thought :)**


	7. Trust Is A Strong Word

**Thank you so much for all of your positive reviews :) I can't wait to show you where this story is going to go.**

Tris leans against a brick wall, watching as Eric counts something up on his clip-board. He looks so out of place. He does not belong here. Being among these factory workers and mailmen makes him look like some sort of criminal. From the way his muscles flex as he flamboyantly flicks the pen across the paper on the board, to the way he stands. So tall. So strong. So dangerous. Unlike the Amity men who pass him by every now and then.

He looks pissed off, like he always does. It makes Tris smirk.

The sky has begun to turn a pinkish colour, holding a belt of a rainbow in the distance where it must have rained. The clouds are coming over this section of the city slowly, inevitably darkening the surroundings. Or it could be the sunset.

Suddenly, there is a flicker across Tris' face. She puts her hand to her forehead, trying to block out the blinding light. Once it disappears, she lowers her hand and starts searching frantically for the source. Everybody looks casual: Eric is still ticking boxes on his clip-board; her friends are still chatting away in the corner (and from the looks of it, Al and Will are planning on pranking one of the Erudite members); a group of Amity women are still faffing about, probably waiting for their partners to finish last-minute check-ups; and nobody seems to have noticed this light.

Tris is about to shrug it off, but then it happens again. This time, it flickers over her hands. She looks up quickly, desperate to not lose sight of the flash before it disappears once more.

She sees the light dancing around in between a structure of enormous bags.

Who is that? What do they want?

Instinctively, she walks towards it. The person who attracted her attention obviously does not want anybody else to know. As Tris walks past her friends discretely, she hears a giggle bubbling inside Christina. It calms her nerves. If she is laughing, then everything is okay.

Tris steals a glance at Eric as she shuffles past him, holding her breath the whole time. The last thing she wants is for him to notice. He would ask questions. And mention his deal proposition again. Or not mention it. And bring up the kiss. Although, that is the last thing she expects him to do. He is practically denying the fact that anything even happened that night.

She was doing so well standing there, watching everyone. Blending in.

"Where are you going?" he asks. Tris closes her eyes in defeat, letting out a long sigh. _Quick, make something up,_ she thinks.

"I… I need to pee," she mutters, turning to look at him. She is pleased to see that his hard stare is gone and his eyes have darted away, searching to look at anything but her. Lastly, he furrows his eyebrows.

"Well, hurry up. We're leaving soon," he says. Tris nods and walks off in the route she had planned. That went surprisingly well. He didn't interrogate her at all. Perhaps the fact that he was forced into looking after a group of initiates as they loaded a bunch of sacks onto shabby trunks lowered his ego a little. A job is a job. And he has to do it.

Tris runs her fingers along the tender sack on her right as she walks past it, away from her friends and towards the mysterious light producer. Her heartbeat starts rising in anticipation. This could be anyone. If they were fine being open to the public, surely they would have walked out onto the loading site and got her attention. But no, there must be some secret. Tris could empathise. Secrets are a priority, it seems.

She turns left and then right as her legs take her deeper into the unknown. Not much commotion is going on here. A few workers have made themselves comfortable on top of a massive pile of bags a few feet away. She eyes them suspiciously, looking out for any signs that these people might have tried to lure her in here. But they don't even glance in her direction. So she continues walking.

When she turns another corner, something warm and familiar touches her shoulder. She gasps loudly.

As she twists around, her mother's face engulfs her vision. She blinks twice to make sure that she is real. Her small nose, her large eyes, her plain but not so plain features. The way a loose strand of hair twirls around in the warm breeze across her face. The way her bright smile finds her lips at the moment she sees her daughter. It's all there.

It's her mother. She is real.

"Mom?"

Tris' voice comes out in a strangled sob. But before she even has the chance to start crying, her mother's arms wrap around her shoulders, bringing her home.

"Oh, my girl," she whispers. Tris inhales her mother's scent, still disbelieving who is in front of her. How did she get here? Is it not against the most absolute rules to appear in front of your family at this time after the Choosing Ceremony? How did she find her?

They stay wrapped around each other for a long couple of seconds, both afraid to let go. But however long they would stay in this embrace, Tris realizes, no time will ever be long enough.

"Mom, what are you doing here?" she asks once they pull apart. There is a glimmer of moisture in her mother's eyes. Tris puts a hand to her own blue orbs and sniffs slightly, concealing all of her emotions.

It was uncommon for an Abnegation to cry. It was deemed self-centred. It attracts unnecessary attention. Looking back at it now, Tris realizes how stupid some of the rules she had to put up with were. Once again, she has to remind herself that she is not Abnegation. She is Dauntless. Crying is not a crime.

"I knew they'd assign you here sooner or later," she breathes, "Look at you! God, you're so strong and beautiful," she rushes through with her answer like she is afraid her daughter would ask the question she is dreading to hear. Nevertheless, Tris smiles brightly, reaching out for her hand and squeezing it.

"Mom, you can't be here," she informs.

"I know, but you're in danger."

Tris stares at her for a long moment, trying to read her look. She is in danger?

"What?"

"I have to ask you something," her mom presses, reaching out to grip her shoulders. Tris waltz through her experience at Dauntless so far, searching for the wrong move she might have made, as if her life is a chess game. What could have gotten her in danger?

She thinks back to the time when Eric kissed her. Are leaders even allowed to flirt with initiates? Is that what might have happened? When Peter slammed her into the wall for getting a surprisingly high score on the score board. Did that have anything to do with what her mother is talking about?

"You weren't sick the day you took your aptitude test, were you?"

Tris' breath hitches. The only person who is aware that she is Divergent is Tori, the woman who administered the test. And she warned her not to tell anybody about her 'condition'. But could she trust her mother?

"Why?" Tris asks, trying to find a hint of deception in her eyes.

"What were your test results?" Her heart starts racing again and her palms start sweating. She glances back at the crowd of workers laughing among themselves on the bags. Those are the only people who can see her. They look harmless.

She then looks back at her mother, tightening her face, as if to prepare for a hard blow.

"Honey, it's okay, you can tell me," she ends up whispering. The concern in her voice is real. And so is her allegiance.

Tris hesitates and looks down, before whispering back even quieter, "They were inconclusive."

"Divergent," her mother corrects. When Tris looks back up at her, she sees that her mom looks slightly proud. But she shouldn't be. Divergence is dangerous. She doesn't even know what it means, "You can't tell anyone. You can't tell your friends, your instructors, you can't trust anyone."

"I'm not," a high whistle in the distance signals that everyone should be boarding the trucks. Her feet shuffle slightly, contemplating on running away.

"People have always been so threatened by Divergents. But now Erudite is looking for them everywhere. They're actively seeking them out-"

Tris cuts her off, panicking, "Why? Mom, what am I?"

Her mother's face softens, "You don't conform. Your mind works in a million different ways. They're scared of you."

Is this why Eric wanted Tris to recruit a group of Divergents among her friends? Was he aware of the fact that they are dangerous? Her heart takes a massive descent to the pit of her stomach. He wanted to obtain people like Tris, but he didn't know that she was what he was looking for. She was the only Divergent in Dauntless, as far as she knew.

He never wanted to help them… he is working for someone. Someone who is obsessed with capturing these anomalies within the faction system.

Tris purses her lips. She cannot trust him.

"Stage two of training is where you are most at risk. They're going to get inside your head and watch how you respond to fear. But you can pass, you can make it through Dauntless, I have seen it before."

"How do you know so much about this?" she asks slowly, looking over her mom's face. Automatically, her replies go off in a tangent, disappearing as quickly as they were created inside her head.

Tris widens her eyes in amazement. Her mother could have been Dauntless. She could have been. How else would she know about this? About the second sages of training?

"Never mind about me, do not let them know who you are!"

"Wait," Tris starts, "Were you Dauntless?"

"Listen-"

"Hey!" Tris gasps and spins around quickly, widening her eyes when she sees Eric standing in the distance with his petite clip-board. His eyes are dark with aggravation as he twirls a pen around his fingers. She freezes on the spot as her mother's warnings come back to her, hovering around inside her head. She is dangerous. She is Divergent. She can't trust anyone.

Especially Eric.

"I'm not getting any younger," he snarls at her, "The truck is loaded. Let's go."

When Tris glances behind her, her mother is already gone. It takes her a second to comprehend that she could have been Dauntless. Or even Divergent.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

By the time they get back to Dauntless headquarters, it is already 9 o'clock. Everyone around Tris seem to be yawning as they enter the pit. But she isn't. She is wide awake. How could she possibly feel tired? How could she possibly sleep, ever? What her mom said scared the shit out of her. How is she going to pass the second stage?

A hand claps her shoulder and she gasps loudly, jumping a foot into the air.

"Woah," Four's reassuring voice chuckles, "Why so jumpy?"

She sees the warm smile on his face and sighs, desperate to talk to somebody. How can she ever trust anyone now?

"I'm… I'm not," she replies, glancing around her protectively. One, she thought she would end up telling Eric everything. About how scared she is and about how tiring it makes her, carrying around this heavy secret. But now, that can never happen. Her first impression of him was accurate. Careless and cruel. She should never associate with him ever again.

"You should get some rest," Four steps back, showing his drunken state again. Tris feigns her giggle, sliding her hands into her pockets.

"I'm not tired,"

"You should be," he warns, "More training tomorrow. Training is important, you know."

She rolls her eyes bravely, not phased that he would comment on it. But then again, he probably won't remember this conversation tomorrow.

"Yeah," she whispers, looking around at the dancing figures in the Pit. So far, Dauntless is coming off as a faction of alcoholics. How do they find this much time to party?

"Go find your friends," he orders, patting her shoulder, "See you tomorrow."

"Bye," she turns on her heel, letting Four's innocent look swarm her mind for a while.

 **I am laughing so hard, you have no idea. Every time I portray Four in this story, he seems drunk xD That will change, I promise. No alcoholics are going to be included in this fanfic.**

 **Review and tell me what you think of this so far :)**


	8. Simulation

Tris' knee bobs up and down as she sits on one of the chairs in the waiting room. The whole initiate group is with her. Christina sits next to her, looking up at the ceiling. Her eyes are hard to read. They are glassy. Her arms are folded just like Tris', as if she is trying to be like her. Knowing her bravery and everything, most of her friends aspire to deal with fear as easily as her.

On her other side, Al wipes the sweat off his palms on his knees. _Caleb's habit_ , Tris thinks. For a second, her mind drifts off to the place where he is reading novels, stacking books and mixing potions. Never in her life could she have imagined her brother in Erudite. But she guesses, he is a chameleon. He blended into Abnegation. He will blend into Erudite. Tris smirks slightly when she tries to imagine him at Dauntless. He would never belong here. _This is my faction,_ Tris decides.

Across from her, Peter puckers his lips, looking around the room like a critic of interiors. His eyebrows knit together as he glances at the door Molly walked through twenty minutes ago. Tris can't even tell if he is afraid, or the least bit curious. His expression is neutral.

Suddenly, he glances at Al and wiggles his eyebrows so quickly that Tris isn't sure if he did it at all. Since when does he pass those kind of signals to Al? She turns her head to look at him, but he is staring at his shoes. His broad shoulders tower beside her, puffing up and down gently. She feels safe near him. He seems big enough to ward any kind of evil away.

The metal door unlocks with a click and a cryptic _hsss_ is heard once it swings open. Molly emerges from the inside, but she is not alone. Two Dauntless staff have her arms snaked around theirs, supporting her body weight. Tris leans in, trying to see her face, but it is not visible under all the hair that is covering it. Unmistakable whimpers escape her lips as she forces her feet to stand in front of her. Step by step by step she makes it through the waiting room and towards the exit.

"What did they do to her?" Christina mutters, mostly to herself, never tearing her eyes off the almost-paralysed girl.

Tris is about to answer but Four's voice cuts in, "Tris?"

Her head snaps to him, eyes wide. It's her turn.

Not knowing what the hell she signed up for when she allowed her blood to touch the coals at the Choosing Ceremony, Tris shoots up like a bolt and walks towards the door. Four watches as she walks, chewing on the inside of his lip. His eyes are clearer today. Not blurred by alcohol.

He steps aside once she enters the room. There is a metal recliner which is accompanied by a set of screens and wires and buttons on a trolley next to it. She remembers the same chair from her aptitude test. And the last time she sat in one of those, life changing results enlightened her. Tori could see that she was Divergent. Would Four see it as well?

"Welcome, Tris," a deep voice chuckles in the corner of the room. She turns her head and gapes at whom she sees.

Eric.

What the hell is he doing here?

He frowns, as if reading her mind, and pushes himself off the wall he was leaning against.

"Let's see if you are any better than your friend Molly," he says, stepping dangerously close to her. She glances at Four who is busy preparing some sort of vaccine at his control panel. His face shoes despair.

Her life is over. Tris understands now what her mother was warning her about. They will see how she responds to fear. They will get inside her head. They will be able to see if she is Divergent or not. And worst of all, Eric will be here to witness it. Eric. The cryptic man who is without a doubt trying to eliminate Divergents from Dauntless. _Erudite are actively seeking them out._

But her mother said that she has seen somebody make it through initiation before. Someone who was Divergent.

She clings to her mother's words, hoping that they will encourage her to fight on.

"Take a seat," Four says, casting her a serious look. She obeys immediately, glad to be away from Eric's scorching heat surrounding her, "I'll inject you with a serum that stimulates a part of your brain that processes fear."

His voice is muffled in her ears as she watches Eric. She realizes now that he has something in his hand. To see better, she leans forward slightly squinting her eyes. It looks like a metal rod. It's about the size of her hand.

"It induces hallucination and the transmitters in the serum allow me to see the images in your mind," Four turns around briefly, stretching out his arm for her to see the orange liquid in the metallic syringe.

"You can see inside my mind?" Tris raises her eyebrows. This is worse than what she previously imagined.

"Why? Are you scared?" Eric pipes up, walking up to the cart where the screen is and letting the rod clatter onto the tray.

He looks so confident for some reason. Like he knows something others don't. It makes Four cast him shifty glances and then look back at Tris reassuringly.

Eventually, he pushes past Eric with his orange syringe and stands next to Tris, gesturing for her to lay back. She obeys again. Her eyes never leave Eric's. What is going on between them two? They are acting like stubborn brothers, both refusing to acknowledge each other's presence.

Tris feels Four's fingers trace a spot on her neck slowly, probably wiping a strand of hair away. A shudder runs down her body when her eyes leave Eric's and meet Four's. He gives her a small nod before inserting the needle and pressing down on the plunger. Tris moans quietly, feeling a sharp sting before the sensation of the watery serum running through her veins.

"You're going to be facing your worst fears, Tris," Four says, putting the syringe back onto the metal tray, "Most people have ten to fifteen really bad ones. You have to calm yourself. Slow your heart rate and your breathing. Deal with what's in front of you."

She hears a scrape of a chair before a loud clang. Her eyes begin filling up with red dots, as if she is about to pass out. She looks in Eric's direction. He has seated himself down next to the recliner, resting his elbows on his knees. If Four wasn't here, she wouldn't know what she would do. It's dangerous not being in control of your own body. She would have been vulnerable with Eric there… staring down at her like she was a meal. His predatory eyes skimmed over her body before gluing to the floor.

"Be brave," Four murmurs. His brown eyes are the last thing she sees.

SHSHSHSHSH

Her ankle twitches slightly. Her fingers curl to form two small fists. She feels her eyebrows furrow as the serum starts losing its power. Her mind is drifting back into her conscious body. Not the simulation body she hated. It felt so real. And she was so scared. She hated it.

Wind passes through her nostrils, tickling her skin as her senses start working again. Then a flash before her eyes. The crow. The raucous caw hurts her ears.

She gasps loudly and lunges forward, forcing her eyes open. But then it's gone. The birds are gone. The field is gone. All she sees is the orange light in the simulation room. And then two figures. One near the screens, one right next to her face. Everything blurs into reality again when she batters her eyelashes.

"Easy, easy," Eric's hand lands on her chest, pushing her back into the chair gently. Tris is about to push him away but then she realizes that if his hand wasn't there, she would have fell forward and hit the ground.

"You okay?" Four's voice comforts her. She looks at him. He is looking back at her. His eyes are hard again. Unreadable.

As if to answer both of her instructors, Tris puts her head in her hands and sighs loudly. Thinking about it now, Molly's reaction was worse. At least Tris wasn't numb. She wiggles her toes inside her boots just to check. They were moving. Everything was in order. She was lucky her fears were not horrendous.

A loud silence fills the room after Eric stands up. When Tris catches her breath, she glances up at Four. He seems to have grown twice his size. His shoulders are raised and his arms are out, muscles bulging. Tris didn't know the origins of that bodily expression. Was something wrong?

She then looks up at Eric who for the first time in his life does not look livid. He has both of his hands in front of him, waiting for something. His eyes scan Four's face carefully, trying to figure something out. Tris begins to feel awkward and stands up, without knowing what other initiates did before her.

She takes a step towards the door she came through when Eric's hand on her shoulder stops her. He squeezes slightly before speaking.

"Come with me," he murmurs. Tris feels her heart rate pick up again. She would not come with him. She would not. He is going to kill her if she does. Maybe now he knows that she is Divergent. Maybe this test showed everyone how her brain worked. In a panic, she forces herself to remember the fear simulation. She did everything according to plan. What would a normal person do?

Before Tris can shake her head or reply to the intimidating leader, he interrupts her.

"I'll walk you to the dorms."

She looks up into his eyes to see clear discomfort. He keeps shifting them to Four, then to the wall, then to her and then back at Four. She has never seen him look more nervous.

A strange feeling rising deep within her, forces her feet to follow his. Before she is even aware what choice she made, the sound of the water splashing down at the Chasm awakens her. She followed him.

"How long do you think you were in that hallucination, initiate?" he asks all of a sudden, frowning down at her.

Her anxiety fails her and she is too quick to reply.

"Fifteen minutes," she answers, keeping her distance from him as she walks. Her muscles are tense. Ready for an attack. If it comes.

"Three," he says, "Four times faster than the average."

She hadn't thought of that. She knew the simulation wasn't real and the whole time frame was tampered with due to the serum, but she would never have guessed that only three minutes passed. Tris grins proudly, about to take this as a compliment, but then rejects the ludicrous thought. Four times faster than the average. She is standing out. She is supposed to be blending in.

"Next time it will be a lot easier. You are a natural. Never thought a Stiff had the guts to push themselves like that," he smirks slightly, suddenly walking closer to her.

"I have to do that again?" Tris raises her eyebrows.

"Yeah, you have to practice several times before the final," he sighs, "But you're a natural. You'll whiz though."

Tris looks up at the rocky ceiling as she walks, enjoying the shouts coming from other corridors. She wonders how Christina will do in her test. And Al. And Will. They have nothing to worry about. No secrets are kept within their friendship group. It's just Tris.

How can you even tell if somebody is Divergent by watching a screen?

They approach the dormitory door and Tris has that flashback again. Of his scorching lips on hers. Tugging and biting. Merciless.

"Why did you kiss me?" she asks, turning a bright shade of crimson as soon as the words leave her mouth.

Eric chuckles lowly as he stops near the door, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Get some rest, initiate. You'll need it," his eyes burn though her, totally ignoring her question. It makes Tris feel even more embarrassed that he chooses not to acknowledge it. A sudden rush of adrenaline strives through her. She speaks again.

"I asked you a question," she warns, folding her arms, "Why. Did. You. Kiss. Me."

Eric glares down at her, a dull sparkle visible in his eyes. He steps closer, clenching his jaw. The atmosphere grows dense, and Tris feels the walls start closing in. The air is thicker. It begins hard to breathe.

"Feisty, are we?" his nostrils flare as he raises his hand. For a second, she thinks that he will hit her. But then his fingers move closer and tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His thumb lingers on her earlobe, grazing against it.

Tris leans closer instinctively, hungry for an answer. Or at least one more touch. Either being Dauntless has completely gone to her head or she is naturally insane. She shouldn't want this.

From how close their faces are, she can see the slight stubble colouring his chin. There is also a small scar near his lips. A scar she hadn't noticed before.

"I want you to do it again," she whispers as a wave of heat surges over her face. The air she is breathing becomes hot. What is going on?

"Do you have any idea what you are asking for?"

"Yes," she answers, "I do."

Without warning, his lips latch onto hers, threatening to leave bruises. For the first time, she kisses back, making an oddly satisfying sound every time he pulls away. Her heart pounds against her ribcage. The heat travels down her body, branching out onto her arms and legs. She feels like she will explode. But the new feeling leaves her wanting even more.

Her hands fly up to his head, running through his short hair. He grunts in approval before slamming her against a wall. It hurts a little. She whimpers to let him know, but he does it again. Like her pain powers him.

Soon enough, his tongue darts out of his mouth, running across her lips impatiently. Tris squeezes her eyes shut, not knowing what to do, but when his tongue nudges past her teeth, she opens wide, letting him explore her.

His hands run up her shirt shamelessly, connecting with her hot skin. He hisses slightly at the contact like what they are doing is totally forbidden and her boiling skin is trying to burn him. Maybe it is forbidden. What will her friends think of this? A short second passes before she realizes that she will probably never tell her friends.

One of Eric's hands make their way up her back, tugging at her bra strap. All of Tris' senses suddenly multiply by three. She feels more. She sees more. And she is aware of everything and nothing at the same time.

She gasps loudly when he presses himself against her roughly, making it hard for her to breathe. The splashes in the Chasm fade in slowly. They are in the corridor. Hey are in public. Why did she ask for this?

Tris detaches her lips and turns her head, finally opening her eyes. Eric's breath tickles her cheek as he starts becoming more and more aware of the situation. He kisses her cheek sweetly. And then he steps back.

"I kissed you because I wanted to," his answer is delayed. Tris puts a hand to her heart and looks down, trying to catch her breath, "You don't always need a reason to do something here at Dauntless. You just do it. Because you fucking want to."

He grips her chin, and a small gasp escapes her mouth. She stares up at his grey eyes in amazement, recalling that this was what he did the first time they kissed.

"Isn't that why you asked me to do it?"

Tris stares at him blankly, trying to understand the situation. He sighs when she doesn't reply.

"Like I said, you don't always need a reason."

She runs a hand up his tattooed wrist as he slowly loosens his grip on her chin. Tris repeats his statement over and over again in her head.

Even when he is gone.

 _You don't always need a reason._ She fails to understand his logic. How can you not need a reason? Reason is everything.

But did she have a reason to ask him to kiss her? There was a strong want. She wanted it. That's all she knows. Maybe he was right. Maybe there wasn't a reason.

Her shoulders slump without her knowing why. There wasn't a reason.

Oh.


	9. Hanging With The Wrong Crowd

The simulation today seemed more stress-free. But by no definition easier.

Tris didn't have to anticipate the glass tank, or being tied to a pole with flames around her. This time she just had to re-live it. And if possible, improve her techniques.

This time, Eric wasn't there.

This time, she actually felt disappointed.

To her dismay, once she emerged from the simulation, Four had the most reproachful look on his face. He kept glancing at her and then to the screen in front of him and then at her again. His tongue ran along his bottom lip, as if to test if his taste sense was still working. As if to find out whether he was in a simulation himself.

Tris strode out of the room before she could be interrogated by her instructor.

"Dauntless don't break the glass like that," he said upon her departure. She ignored him and walked away. Back to the Pit. Where she knew all her friends would be after the test.

Celebrating having a better score than last time.

She could not let anybody know that she was Divergent. And apparently, Four began suspecting that when he watched over her simulations. She could see it in his eyes. He knew. But the problem was: she didn't know how to manipulate the test. She didn't know what gave her away. As far as Tris was concerned, she was only trying to survive the simulations. Thinking logically.

She shakes her head as she walks into the crumbling Pit. She needs to talk to her mother again. Or somebody who she trusts. But who?

Tris releases her hair from the band and allows it to flow over her shoulders. It was tugging lonely strands before, causing her skull to itch. But now she could alleviate that feeling.

After securing the hair band around her wrist, she tangles both hands in her hair and pulls gently. The feeling causes her eyes to flutter shut, a moan rising in her throat. Thankfully, the music is way too loud for anyone to hear her. Which is good. Nobody likes a weirdo in the middle of the Pit, tugging at her hair and moaning.

When Tris opens her eyes, her vision becomes vivid. People dancing here and there. Somebody fighting playfully in the corner. Peter and Drew drinking at the bar. And from her peripheral vision… Eric.

"Initiate!" he yells over the music, jumping down from the rock he was standing on.

The omnipotent leader has a beer bottle in his hand, the neck of it being caressed by his fingers as he swings it back and forth. At one point, Tris gets a mini heart attack at his careless way of holding objects. A little less pressure and the bottle would shatter into tiny pieces.

A few heads turn as he approaches her cautiously, lowering his head like a lion in the middle of a corn field.

Tris walks up to him, stopping when he is a foot away, "I want you to leave me alone."

Eric scoffs at her. He takes the last swing of his beer, not bothering to fill in the silence between them.

"Please," she says, folding her arms.

"If you want me to leave you alone, make me," he says, "Don't beg."

Tris watches the alcohol swimming around in his eyes. He doesn't seem uptight today. He doesn't even seem curious about why she would want him to stay away. Tris has decided this earlier though. He can't just keep kissing her whenever he wants and act completely oblivious to her presence the next day.

"You're just so confusing," she whispers to herself. Eric raises an eyebrow and puts his glass bottle down near his feet.

"How was the simulation today?" he murmurs, leaning closer until she can smell his minty breath.

She stares up at him dubiously, not knowing how to react. She hasn't seen him like this before. Since when is he interested in what she does? He isn't. He can't be. This is just another show he is putting on. But this time, she would not fall for the act.

Tris rolls her eyes and turns around. A hand grips her wrist. Warm, calloused fingers press into her skin. He won't let go.

When she turns around, he is smirking. This new smirk is almost too big for his face.

"What if I don't want to leave you alone?"

"Then too bad," she smirks back, "I'm not interested in guys like you."

"Guys like me?" he steps closer to her, groping her small curves. She realizes at that moment that her eyes have been locked on his. Never leaving them, "Have I been that bad?"

The slur in his voice makes her giggle. Loudly. She forgets about being Divergent. Or passing the final test. She feels like this is the moment she wants to be in. Well, any moment. Only with him.

It doesn't surprise her when he captures her lips with his teeth, tugging and nibbling until they are ready to be moistened with his tongue. Tris gasps, not hearing herself in the loud atmosphere. But she is certain that he heard her. She leans up, kissing him softly. He returns the favour eventually.

"You drive me crazy," he mumbles, his deep voice making her skin vibrate.

She manages to mutter his name in return.

His big hands come up to her face, brushing back her hair. Tris flushes when she smells aftershave on his palms. He is still just a guy. Even though he doesn't act like one. He still shaves. And showers. And takes naps.

Tris was foolish enough to think that he was immortal. He was a human tank.

He's not. The aftershave reminded her.

She whimpers quietly- knowing that nobody can hear her in the Pit –when Eric's hands run up her sweater. Her skin tingles at his touch. Her head spins in delirious circles. She let's go of everything.

"Yeah, show some skin, Stiff!" Peter's voice booms over the music.

Tris gasps in embarrassment and pushes herself away from the human tank, tugging the material of her sweater down. How could she be this stupid? Making out with everybody's most hated person in the centre of Dauntless. A few people turn to stare at her. Some glare. The others shake their heads.

But her friends aren't among those people. Thank God. It would be a hard thing to explain.

She takes a moment to flush away the redness from her face before looking over at Peter. He has a confused expression plastered on his face. Not hate. Confusion. _What are you doing, Stiff?_ He would say. _You've just ruined everything._

She notices that he throws a cautious gaze towards Eric. Drew does it too. Why are they acting so strange?

They simultaneously grab their alcoholic beverages and back up until their silhouettes fade into the dancing crowd. Before Tris has the chance to start gluing the pieces together, figuring out their problem, Eric's arm wraps around her again, pulling her close.

"Let's get out of here," he whispers into her hair.

 **Oooooooh, guys. Guys.**

 **These moments alter the future. Don't forget that. Peter and Drew and Al were supposed to be planning to chuck Tris into the chasm. But now that they've seen her making out with Eric...**

 **That's all I'm going to say. That's all I'm going to say xD**

 **Review please :)**


	10. Her Biggest Fear

**Here is chapter 10! A bit more of our favourite duo in this one.**

 **I bet the title of this chapter excited you a bit ;) It did, didn't it?**

Eric's hand hovers on the small of her back as they walk through the rocky corridors. It is eerily silent here. There is no muffled music or loud voices. Just the howling of the wind outside, Eric's heavy footsteps and Tris' quick ones to accompany him.

Tris heard about this place. This is where some of the apartments are within Dauntless. After her initiation, she should be moving here too. But maybe not anywhere near his place. There is not many doors here. He must have a very private room.

She looks around in an awe, glancing back down at her shoes when she catches Eric's gaze ravishing her.

What happened to keeping distance? Eric is extremely dangerous. For all she knows, he could be setting her a trap which she is walking straight into.

"Here," he murmurs, taking out a silver key and unlocking a door with it. His door. His apartment.

She takes a quick look around before stepping inside. Perhaps there is somebody watching them. Perhaps somebody wants her to be safe (oddly enough). Whether it is Four or even Peter, she would be pleased. She doesn't trust Eric with her life. Whatever he is up to, wherever he is leading her, she would be thankful if somebody is keeping an eye on her. Just in case.

Eric flicks a switch and the lights flicker to life. The room brightens, but not by much. There is still a hint of darkness.

The door slams behind them, causing Tris to jump slightly. When she turns around, Eric grabs her face in his hands and kisses her. Just like last time. He captures her bottom lip between his teeth just like last time. Same aggression. Same passion.

Abruptly, he pulls away. His eyes lock on hers as he starts speaking, "You should be preparing yourself for tomorrow's simulation… but I'd rather you stay here with me," his finger tucks a loose strand of hair behind Tris' ear. She smiles politely, not wanting to anger him.

"I'd rather prepare myself though," her voice is reluctant, straining to become loud enough for him to hear.

"I don't believe you," he purrs, nuzzling his nose against her face like a cat. She giggles and pushes him slightly, feeling delighted when he smiles back at her. All too soon, his face turns cryptic, jaw clenching. Well, it was fun while it lasted.

He finds himself near the kitchen counter, rummaging through one of the cupboards. Tris watches him from the distance, contemplating whether to run out while he isn't looking. She realizes that her feet are glued to the floor. Who is she kidding? She couldn't leave if she wanted to. Something is pulling her towards him.

She takes a deep breath and follows her instinct, walking up to a grey couch and sitting down. This place isn't too bad. There is a lot of space. The walls and furnishings are grey; not black. The lights above her remind her too much of a janitor's closet- flickering from time to time, appearing to glow dimmer and dimmer.

"What are you going to drink? Water?" Eric asks from the kitchen. She turns to see him pouring different liquids into two glasses.

"Err, yeah," Tris replies.

"Thought so," she hears a smirk in his reply. Is she really that predictable?

He returns to her side with two glasses: one with water, one with something else. Something brown.

She feels the seat beside her sag as he sits down. His leg skims hers slightly, making her shift away uncomfortably. Some sort of tension starts rising in the air, causing her to feel a little groggy. _This is what you get when you're around him_ , she thinks.

She reaches for her water and takes a slow sip, pleased to find that it's numbingly cold. The water trickles down her throat, travelling all the way down to her stomach. It's freezing. The heat within her cools down slightly.

He is watching her again.

From her peripheral vision, she notices his eyes burning into the side of her face. His elbows rest on his knees as he leans forward, trying to get a better look. Alright then. That doesn't make her feel awkward at all (!)

Tris' eyes dart around the room, trying to find an object to create a conversation about. There must be something. There is always something. But in this room, the walls are grey. Dark grey. And everything is clean. There is nothing to pick upon. No pictures hanged up on walls. No dirty dishes left lying around from yesterday's dinner.

But then she sees it.

A stack of papers. On a table stand. In the corner of the room. Right next to his high-tech computer.

His eyes follow her gaze cautiously. When he sees what she is staring at, he tenses up, slamming his glass of whatever down onto the coffee table.

"Documents," he explains, the corner of his lips twitching upwards.

"They must be insignificant if they are left lying around like that," she sips her water again, hearing a dark chuckle bubble up from Eric.

"Precisely," he replies.

When he raises his glass to his lips, Tris realises that she knows nearly nothing about him. The brown liquid seeps out from the glass and into his mouth. He closes his eyes as he swallows. It must be pleasant if he is drinking it with so much enthusiasm.

There must be a reason for him being so tense and cruel. Was it his upbringing? Was it the impact Dauntless had on him? Did he even transfer? He looks like he has always lived within the warrior faction.

The clink of glass against the coffee table makes her jump. He has finished his drink and is staring at her again. Tris smiles slightly, bringing the lass to her mouth to conceal most of her face. Eric takes the glass away from her, placing it on the table, side by side with his.

"Do I smell bad?" he asks suddenly, draping an arm over the back of the couch. Tris stares at him for a second. When she looks down, she sees the distance between them. In her absent-mind, she shuffled to the other end of the couch. Far away from him.

She giggles nervously to fill the silence and moves back to him, knowing that he will only be satisfied when their legs touch.

"You are kind of intimidating," she answers honestly, watching his reaction. He smirks widely, puckering his lips afterwards.

"Good," he whispers to himself. Tris shakes her head and runs a hand through her now-tangled hair. The sweat has plastered her strands to the back of her neck. She hates that feeling. She had experienced it mostly in Abnegation when she had to help the elderly cross the road. Most of them were very hard to support. And the summer heat made matters worse.

All of a sudden, a flash of grey crosses her eyes. Then she feels his warm lips on hers. He kisses her passionately, allowing her the time to pull away. But she doesn't. She melts into him, wrapping her limbs around his muscular body. He groans with satisfaction, not wasting any time with her sweater. It lands on the floor with a _thump,_ evicting a gasp from Tris.

She jumps in the spot where she is lying at the new feeling. Cold air hitting her skin, hot hands caressing her skinny body. Her heart begins thumping away, her palms start to sweat, her eyes widen at the sight of him. She finds that she cannot close them again. She can't even blink.

Eric brushes his lips across her collarbone, kissing each of the tattooed ravens softly. Tris keeps his head there, too afraid that he will move lower down. She doesn't know why she is afraid. She just is.

He pulls away to look at her, his eyes glistening with lust.

"You're all mine, Tris," he whispers, "Do you understand?"

She nods slowly, trying to catch her breath, not quite comprehending his words. Everything begins to spin. Her ears start to ring. Her breath hitches in her throat as Eric looks over her body. Tris brings her hands up to her bra, trying to hide the view. It's a Dauntless bra. It is much more revealing than an Abnegation one. She is still getting used to it.

She scratches the side of her neck casually, pretending that her hands are not there for a reason. But Eric knows. He can read her well.

He nudges his big palms towards her bra, cupping one of her breasts firmly. A nervous squeak causes him to raise an eyebrow. He releases her lump and trails his five fingers down the middle of her body, stopping at her bellybutton. Every nerve he passed- twitched, her body jolting upwards.

"Afraid?" this one word stops her heart, but she nods nevertheless. He mimics her nod, blinking slowly.

Tris wonders what he will do next. Is he going to be pissed off? Like he usually is? What did he expect to come out of this make out session? She knows for sure that nothing would have happened. It's all too soon. They are not together. She knows nothing about the guy. And of course, this is her biggest fear.

Something starts beeping loudly, giving Tris another jolt. Eric furrows his eyebrows for a second before bringing his wrist to his mouth and pressing something on his watch with his finger. She hadn't noticed it before. He was wearing a fat black watch.

It lights up, presenting some figures in blue. But Tris is too far away to see what any of it means.

" _We need you down at the laboratory. She's here to analyse the results of the serum,"_ Max's voice fills Eric's apartment. Tris tenses up on the couch. She feels stupid lying there without anything to cover her chest. Quite frankly, she was beginning to shiver.

Eric gives her a suspicious look as he replies into his watch, "On my way."

What is _he_ suspicious about? Does he not have any idea how bad this makes him look? Dauntless has a laboratory? And what serum was Max talking about?

When the device whirls to a stop, Eric leans down to place a firm kiss on her lips. His eyes give nothing away.

"Sorry, leadership stuff," he murmurs, rolling off her. Tris sits up slowly, trying to put the puzzle pieces together. What just happened?

She gasps when her sweater hits her in the face. She puts it on quickly, watching as the leader extends his hand for her to take. He has grabbed his apartment keys. He bounces up and down impatiently, waiting for Tris.

She takes a deep breath, sliding her hand into his. He squeezes gently, noticing her disappointed look. But she is disappointed for a whole other reason. She is suspecting something. Eric is bad, but is that an understatement?

"What serum was Max talking about?"

It doesn't take a second for him to reply.

"Simulation serum," he wears a simple smile, shrugging one shoulder, "There was a hiccup. And we sent the serum to Erudite… so they could perfect it. That's all." Tris' wide eyes urge him to keep talking, "We don't want any of the initiates to get stuck in the simulation forever, do we?"

He pulls her up forcefully, ushering her out of his apartment. Once the door is locked behind them, he turns and leaves without looking back.

Either he is telling the truth about the simulation serum, or hiding something unthinkable.

 **Please review and tell me what you think :)**


	11. Competition

Tris stares up at the ceiling in the darkness- her eyes not quite adjusted to the abyss of the dormitory yet. She thinks back to what happened with Eric this evening. How he kicked her out of his apartment and left like nothing happened. To meet Max. There is a saying here at Dauntless that she hadn't heard of before: _Bros before hoes_ , they say. Tris is still trying to contextualize the phrase. However, if she had to use the term now, it would fit perfectly.

A faint smile finds her lips. It's so stupid. This is Dauntless. Kissing is the equivalent of glancing at somebody in Abnegation. It means nothing. But why does it mean everything?

She sighs and turns onto her side, desperately trying to fall asleep. She was the last to get to bed. When she entered the room, everybody was asleep. She had to step over piles of clothes and shoes, tripping at least twice on the journey to her bed. It's a good look after half of the initiates saw her making out with a leader. Very good look.

Her breathing starts to become heavier as her arm hangs off the edge of the bed. Her fingers skim the cold floor, all the nerves in her body slowly shutting down.

But then she hears a scream.

More like a wail. An agonizing wail of a boy.

Her eyes shoot open and she sits up like a bolt in her bed.

"Turn the lights on!" Christina's voice shrieks to her right. Other voices start yelling out to her left. A great thud is heard near the door. Somebody fell out of their cot.

"I'm trying!" Will's voice calls back to her. Tris squints in the darkness, trying to see something. But all she sees are darker figures among the dark background. Silhouettes. It takes her a lot of effort to try and see their faces.

The lights above her flash brightly, blinding her momentarily. She thinks back to the way Eric's apartment lights flickered on slowly. And after that, they were very dim. If only it was like that in here.

She resists the urge to hold her hand up to block the light out of her eyes. The room falls silent for a second. She imagines everybody fighting the brightness, looking down at the floor, waiting for their eyes to see something. Anything.

All too soon, her vision returns. And unfortunately, so does everyone else's.

Christina is the first to scream.

"Oh, my God!" she covers her mouth with both hands, backing up against the wall. Molly and Will stand side by side, almost glaring down at the floor. They don't look shocked, they look perplexed. Al is sitting at his bed, paralyzed. Drew looks disappointed, as if the writhing figure on the floor is overstating his pain. How could you overstate this kind of pain?

Edward is the figure on the floor. His hands are hovering around his face, frantically trying to alleviate the pain by pulling the weapon out.

Tris raises her shoulders in self-defence as she watches the boy.

He has a knife jammed into one of his eye sockets. Blood is pooling around his head, giving him a ghastly halo.

He is wearing his bed clothes. Like everybody else. He was asleep, like everybody else.

So why is he the unfortunate one here? As far as Tris can guess, all initiates had a good chance of being stabbed tonight. But why was it Edward? Nothing makes sense.

"Get the doctor! Somebody!" Will shouts at everyone else as he crouches down beside Edward.

"We have to take it out," Christina joins.

"Are you kidding? You could kill him!"

"We need to get it out!"

Tris runs up to her friends, crouching down opposite them so that Edward is in the middle. She doesn't need to yell for anyone to take action. Somebody already ran out of the room for help.

She places her hand on Edward's as he groans in agony. He is losing too much blood. Her fingers curl around his slowly, trying to squeeze the pain away. He needs another stimuli to concentrate on.

"It'll be okay," she murmurs, listening to his cries fade away. Her eyes shoot up to his face in alarm. The last thing he needs is to pass out. But he isn't passing out. He is breathing heavily, and his face is scrunched up in concentration. Good.

Tris looks up, noticing that Al has left his bed and is now standing beside her. There is another girl there, glancing away from Edward's face like it is hurting her too. And then there is Peter.

When their eyes meet, he takes a step back and walks away. The soft slam of the door signifies his departure. Of course it was Peter.

It's always Peter.

After a nerve-racking five minutes, two super buff guys come into the room to carry Edward away. How is he going to pass his initiation with that kind of injury? He will live. That's certain. But what is the point in life if he is too sick to continue training? He could become Factionless.

The thought makes Tris shudder. Maybe that's why Peter stabbed him. Maybe he wanted him out of Dauntless.

Suddenly, she gasps as a great wave of realization swirls over her. The ringing in her ears starts and her neck becomes hot with perspiration. Edward was the first ranked initiate. And Peter was second.

It all makes sense now. He wants to be first. And the only way to do that is to eliminate his competition. What a coward. He is not even trying to be Dauntless. This faction is about bravery. And fighting till the end of initiation would be rave. Not trying to murder your fellow initiates so that you have a better chance of being first.

Tris finds her hands in the puddle of blood as the ringing starts to disappear slowly. The red liquid is still warm. It finds every gap between her fingers and every space under her nails, wedging through. She feels sick. She can't stand.

"Hey," a familiar voice hushes beside her. It's Christina.

She puts a stack of wet towels beside her friend, takes one grey towel starts to mop up the blood. Tris watches her for a second, and then does the same. The soaked material is cold, but when it starts sucking in the blood, the temperature changes dramatically.

Tris feels her lip stinging, realizing that she was chewing on it all along. She doesn't even care. The pain puts her mind to rest. She can concentrate on that, rather than focusing on the now red towels in her hands.

After they cleaned the floor, Christina announces that she is going to bed. Her eyes scream that she is not going to sleep. The lights will stay on for tonight. Nobody wants to turn them off.

Tris leaves the gory events in the dormitory and runs down the hall to the nearest bathroom. She throws the towels away into a disposal bin, feeling that if she was to clean them out in the sink, she would completely lose her mind.

Eventually, her hands turn the tap and the hot water starts to clean them. She watches the contents become redder and redder as it all swirls away and down the drain. There is a mirror in front of her. She has been avoiding looking at her reflection for so long, it started to tear her apart.

She looks up.

Tears surface in her eyes as she watches her own lip tremble. There is a smear of blood across her cheek and forehead. She should have been more careful. Hair was spilling down her face when she was scrubbing the floors. There was no other choice but to brush it away.

A loud sob torments the bathroom as she splashes some water over her features. It's all gone now. All the red is gone. Down the drain and into the ground, where the trees will grow, feeding themselves on human blood.

She still feels it. Her hands are still warm. Under her nails is something dry. She can't see it but it's still there. All the blood. On her hands.

By now, the tears have drenched her skin, stinging it slightly. Why is she crying? She isn't the one in the infirmary, being told that her time at Dauntless is over.

Her legs begin talking for her. She walks and walks and walks down long corridors, up flights of stairs and then down again, getting lost in the Dauntless maze. But then she hears it. Silence. This corridor.

In front of her is Eric's apartment door. Practically begging for her to knock.

What is she thinking? This isn't brave. Everyone else is fine. A bit shook up, obviously, but none of the other initiates have gone out to find the nearest leader for comfort.

She wipes her face roughly before knocking. She is not like everyone else. She is Divergent. Is this why she is acting so weird? Is this what being Divergent means?

There are heavy footsteps behind the door. They thud closer and closer until she feels like he is right in front of her. With only a piece of wood separating them.

The door opens, revealing Eric is all his glory. He is only wearing a pair of black briefs. They hug him tightly, revealing a bump between his legs. Tris looks up at him and sees that he doesn't seem to care at all. She realizes that even if he was naked, he would have the same expression. Careless. Tired. Half-squinting.

His six-pack rises up and down as he takes heavy breaths. Tris stares at his body, not knowing what to say. He scratches his chest like a part-time alcoholic, his fingers getting tangled in the black hair there.

"Do you realize what time it is, initiate?" he groans, stifling a yawn.

Tris furrows her eyebrows as the flashbacks come back to her. The blood on her hands. The knife in Edward's head. The unsettling screams in the cramped room. An unpleasant shudder runs through her body, shaking away her hysteria. She tries to take a deep breath, but that shakes too. She is thankful that he can't see her face in the dark.

She walks into him, resting her head on his chest, the highest her head could ever reach. His chest hair tickles her face. She tries to take another deep breath before wrapping her arms around his torso and nuzzling her nose into him. She inhales his scent: all earth and musk.

A longing moan hums at the back of her throat.

She feels one of his hands rest at the back of her neck, holding her in place. The other one wraps around her waist fully, pulling her even closer. So close that she ends up in his apartment, right in the middle of it, swallowed by his embrace.

They communicate without talking. Only by breathing. He doesn't have to look at her to know what she needs.

He leads her into his bedroom by her hand. When they get there, he walks over to his bed, laying down on his back. She stands in the middle of his room, not really seeing any details of what it looks like. He moonlight is the only light source. And it only shines upon his chest.

She waddles up to him, copying his movements. Her head finds his chest, where his beating heart is hammering away. It beats in the same pattern, even when he falls asleep.

She listens to the lullaby, running her fingers along his skin. She hadn't even realized that in his sleep, he curled his arm under her body, pulling her against him.

 **What did you think? :) Review and tell me.**

 **Until next time, bye bye!**


	12. New Bed

Tris stirs in the foreign bed, the crisp white sheets tangling between her legs. She stretches with satisfaction, not recalling the dormitory beds being this comfortable. Her eyes shoots open. She isn't in the dormitory.

Last night's events flood back to her slowly, memory by memory, until her happiness is replaced with a heavy feeling in her chest. She holds her breath for a moment, trying to understand how her time at Dauntless went downhill so fast. She was third on the scoreboard. It was great, wasn't it?

Edward.

Oh, God. Edward. Is he alive? Is he going to continue training?

Rage starts to bubble up inside the pit of her stomach. She furrows her eyebrows, glaring at the ceiling. Peter. Peter did this. She needs to report him.

Heavy breathing in the doorway startles her. She gasps and sits up in the king-sized bed.

Eric has his arms folded over his chest. It's not bare anymore. He is wearing a black vest. To her disappointment. There was a brief moment yesterday when she got to see his chest hair. And his boxers… why is he fully clothed now?

 _Shut up, Tris. You can't think like that._

The look of Eric's face is asking her a question. His eyebrows are raised and his tongue is pressed firmly against his cheek. She is unsure why, but she starts blushing. She came here last night. Because she was selfish. She wanted him to comfort her. And he did. But now it's a brand new day. And he is Eric again.

"Sorry, erm… I," she mutters in a raspy voice, "I shouldn't have fallen asleep."

"Relax," his smooth, deep voice purrs, "I do have a few questions though."

A small smirk finds his face as he crosses over to her, sitting at the edge of the bed. He rests his elbows on his knees, checking out his fingers. It has crossed her mind that he has the ability to randomly push her out of his bed. Actually, she is a little surprised that he hasn't done that yet.

"What?" Tris asks, crossing her legs slowly. Eric sees her movement and looks at her for a moment before casting his eyes down again.

"What happened last night?"

Great. It is hard recalling the events in her mind. But it would be harder to recall them out loud. To speak. To share something with another person. She remembers how she sobbed only nine hours ago. Would that pain creep up on her today? At the most random moment? Would she burst into tears?

She watches how he runs one hand over the other, puckering his lips. Soon, she finds herself doing the same thing. _There's blood on my hands._

"Edward got hurt," she says quietly. Eric listens to her, waiting for more information to spill from her lips. She stays silent for a long moment, deciding what to say. She should choose her words carefully, "Peter stabbed him."

Eric turns to look at her, brows knitted together.

"Peter stabbed him?" There seems to be amusement in his voice, as if he is listening to a child make up a story that is way out of the appropriate age range.

Tris gives him a hard look, proving herself to be true.

"I scrubbed his blood off the floor after that," she whispers, "I've never seen so much blood in my life."

Eric sighs, leaning back dramatically, "Well, shit. You sound like a goth."

She stares at him in shock, watching as he stands up to grab his jacket off the back of a chair. She didn't have a chance to absorb the surroundings, because she didn't have the time. But now she just doesn't want to. Why is he acting so cool about this? One of the initiates got stabbed! It's his responsibility to look after them and guide them. He puts on his jacket, straightening his collar.

After a long silence, Tris laughs weakly, shaking her head, "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

He turns to glare at her, fixing his cuffs. He doesn't look very angry. He always looks pissed off, but if he was actually pissed off, he would look more pissed off than he usually does.

"Excuse me?"

"He could've been killed! In fact, he might have been. I don't even know how he is," she gets up from the bed, still in her pyjamas, "I have to go and check on him."

"He isn't your responsibility,"

"But he is yours," she replies.

She scrambles towards the door, only to have him block the way. He smells like aftershave again. He must've showered recently. She takes a long whiff of the delicious scent before placing her hands on his chest, trying to push him aside.

"A bit feisty this morning, are we?" he smirks down at her, groping both of her wrists, "Go have breakfast. I'll deal with the Edward thing later."

"You're a fucking asshole," she whispers. Unfortunately for her, he hears.

Her small chin gets trapped in his large palm, like it was the first time he kissed her. She meets his cold look when he tugs her chin upwards. _He won't do anything to you. He won't hurt you._

"Watch your fucking mouth," he grumbles, forcing his thumb onto her tongue. She gags slightly, biting down on his skin gently. Not too hard. If he added a little more pressure, he would break her jaw. She winces slightly, tears prickling her eyes.

He runs his other hand through her hair gently before leaning down and taking his thumb back. Their lips crash together, in a sort of wild rave. She objects furiously. So now he is going to kiss her? And think that everything will be okay again? He presses her firmly against him, not letting her get away.

The problem is, if she disobeys even a little, he will get angry. He scares the shit out of her. She cannot challenge him at all.

She kisses back.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

Tris storms into the dining hall, frantically searching the crowd for her friends. When she sees Christina waving over at her, she breathes a sigh of relief, making her way in Christina's direction. Blood boils in her veins as she pushes some hair out of her face. He can't keep kissing me like that. He can't do what he wants. _I need to stand up to him._

"Hey, where did you go last night?" She asks, sounding impossibly bright, juxtaposing her mood from yesterday, "And wow," she laughs, "You look… mad."

Tris glances down at herself before smiling and taking a seat next to her, shaking her head, "I'm not."

Will and Al are nowhere to be seen. And neither is Peter. He is probably hiding from the law. Now that he attempted to murder somebody. She still can't believe how laid-back Eric was about that.

"Do you know what happened to Edward?" she asks, grabbing a cold piece of toast from the middle of the table. A flashback seems to hit Christina where it hurts. She frowns, pausing mid-chew, but then regains her composure.

"He's out," she says quietly. He's out? That sounds like something Eric would say.

Tris nods slowly, nibbling at her toast. So this is how it works. Edward is now factionless, because of someone else's actions.

She feels selfish when she considers sticking to Eric for protection. It's beyond dangerous here. How would she know if Peter wouldn't stab her as well? She shouldn't do that. No, it would be wrong. Eric might not be on her side. She doesn't know what's going on in his head.

She opens her mouth to inform Christina about the possible suspect but closes it again. It was Peter. But blabbing about her ideas would not bring her any good.

She watches people pass by their table until the hall is empty.

Who can she trust? Who will listen to her about Peter's attack? And support her at the same time?

Then it strikes her: What about Four?

 **Apologies for this chapter. I feel like I did a great injustice for some reason. I didn't feel literate at all. But if you can understand everything I am putting across though Tris, then ignore this message and continue being excited for the next chapter xD**


	13. Four

**Alright, so the first section of this is basically a deleted scene from Divergent. Originally, it wasn't going to be included but then I figured that it just made sense to jam it in.**

 **Enjoy this one :) While I rack my brain for more ideas for the next chapter xD**

If Eric is acting like a child about the whole Edward incident, somebody more serious about the issue needs to be told. Dauntless police seems corrupt. If an individual got stabbed in Abnegation, consequences would be arranged for the potential killer. Here, they shrug it off. There is no way the other factions would act the same way. Candor, Amity and even Erudite would start a search for the attacker right away.

Four is the only person who seems somewhat sane. Even though he is Dauntless-born, there is a warmth to his eyes.

He is Dauntless-born, right?

She needs to tell him either way.

The pit is strangely tranquil after breakfast. Everybody is either training or working. Tris hops down a pair of steep stairs and lands on the stones scattered around the floor. She squints against the sunlight to see well. There are a few gangs and groups messing about in the background, not loud or irresponsible enough for anyone to complain.

There. She sees Four mumbling something to another instructor. _Her name is Lauren,_ Tris recalls.

As soon as the woman sees Tris approaching, she smirks knowingly and walks away, leaving Four in the middle of the Pit to glare into the distance. Why is everybody always so angry?

Tris walks up to him confidently, taking a deep breath before speaking, "I think Peter is the one who stabbed Edward."

His eyebrows knit together immediately, the warmth fading from his eyes, "You think?"

Tris nods slightly, daring to glance away from him. He needs to believe her.

"Do you have any actual evidence?"

She scrunches up her nose the way Eric sometimes does, displaying disgust. Evidence? How can she have evidence? It's not like she perched herself on a wall with a camera, waiting for some action to happen in the dormitory.

"No," she says, like it's the most obvious answer.

"Then why don't you keep your mouth shut?" His reply takes her aback. She slides her hands into her tight pockets, irritation obvious on her face. Four glances away, looking at someone behind her.

"Because I saw him right afterwards and he-"

"We're not interested in your theories," Four sighs, as if he was forced to say that, "Okay?" His eyes soften immediately, a bead of perspiration collecting on his forehead.

"Four, you just lost your top initiate, and you're not going to do anything-"

"He's not my top initiate anymore," a deep voice declares behind her. She gasps slightly, turning around to see him. Of course. Appearing out of nowhere. Is he going to make out with her now?

Eric.

"In fact, he can't continue training, so he's out," he says, forcing his gaze through her eyes and into her soul. Yes. She knew that already. But now that Eric has spoken, the matter has become official.

She looks back at Four, who has the most nervous look on his face. He looks back at her, trying to communicate by eye contact. But she can't understand a word. She can only do that with Eric.

"Everybody needs to watch their backs," Eric murmurs, nodding forward, like it only applies to her. She stares at him in shock, feeling a heat inflame her neck, "Okay?"

He doesn't wait for her response. He walks away. Tris rolls her eyes, beginning to feel tired of the way he is. Four notices and raises an eyebrow, but before he can ask anything, she speaks.

"Why is this okay? I don't get it. Are we supposed to be cruel? Or just stupid?" She spits the words like venom, believing her utterances completely, "Or is this supposed to be a part of the new rules-"

"It is," Four nods slowly, still watching her. She has never let her anger carry her away like this. Especially with an instructor. The strong worded argument with Eric this morning doesn't count. She can't even be bothered dealing with him anymore.

"Why are there new rules?" she asks, curiously.

"That's what I'm trying to find out," he answers uncomfortably, leaving her in the middle of the pit right afterwards. She watches him walk away, a part of his tattoo showing on the back of his neck.

Four isn't a part of their rules. He doesn't want to follow them. Anyone can tell. And neither does Tris. Which is why the best option for her is to stick with him.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

After another simulation, everybody heads to the Pit. Again. Zeke ran up to Tris afterwards with his brother, Uriah, begging her to go for some sort of "Dauntless Ritual". Something to do with a zip-line. She declined his offer.

As she went into her fear landscape time after time, her results started to get better and better. And Four's face started to grow darker and darker. She had the best score. She didn't understand why it caused Four to be so grumpy. Maybe he was jealous.

She sits near the Pit now, the noises soothing her. She discovered this little place on the wall. There is enough space for three people to sit. It overlooks the entire Pit. People dancing and drinking about twenty five feet below her. She leans forward, taking a good look. As her legs swing in the air, she gets a tiny strike of Acrophobia. Just another inch further and she would plummet to her death. There are no railings (obviously), making matters worse. Before anything can happen, she leans back, closing her eyes.

Footsteps approach her from behind, causing her to turn her head. It's Four. Surprisingly.

He flashes her a small smirk and holds up two bottles of beer, taking a seat next to her, "Here," he hands her a bottle, popping his open with a pocket knife.

"I don't like beer," she says, smiling as he opens her bottle.

"Neither do I," he replies, clinking their bottles together. He starts drinking, looking down at the Pit like a true leader. Like a king.

Tris watches him for a second, sighing. Why is he being so nice to her? Just this morning he was commanding her to 'shut her mouth'. She feels like she should take advantage of that, while he is available for it and she is confused as usual.

"A little bird told me that you and Eric are dating," he sighs, avoiding her eyes. She watches as he takes a big gulp of his drink, keeping the liquid in his mouth for as long as he can without swallowing.

"Well, that little bird is wrong," she says, licking her lips. She is thirsty, but not this thirsty. She puts the bottle down between them.

Four turns to her with his big brown eyes, trying to read her, "So you didn't make out a few days ago?"

"No, we did. But we're not dating," she murmurs. In a small group of partying Dauntless is Christina. She appears to be getting Al to drink something sour. His face scrunches up, and he shakes his head for a long time.

Four empties half of his bottle in less than a minute before placing it down next to Tris' full one. Their legs swing back and forth simultaneously, in time with the thudding music. He sits closer to the wall behind them, while Tris looks like she is about to tip over the edge.

"You need to be careful," he says in a hushed tone, glancing at her, "Some people are beginning to think that you are sleeping with him to get good scores for your training."

"What?" Tris' eyes go wide. She puts a hand over her face, "I'm not. I would never-"

"I know," he soothes, leaning closer to her, "Tris, you have enough to deal with, okay? As your instructor, I am obliged to help you," he hesitates slightly, "Your simulation time is dangerously good. You are better than everyone else in your group-"

"How is that a bad thing-"

He cuts her off again, "What were your test results? Your aptitude test."

Tris shudders at his words. Her mother told her not to trust anyone. She should listen.

Why is it that when she is alone, her instructors approach her and always interrogate her? Always.

"Abnegation," she mutters, giving him a confused look. She was never a good liar. She can see that he doesn't buy it.

"I don't think so," he spits, mocking a smile.

"What?"

"I think you're lying to me," he says. The noise in the Pit decreases dramatically. Her face starts to burn and her heart begins to beat faster. What if somebody is listening to their conversation? No, she can't tell him. He is just as trustworthy as Eric. Which is evidently not very trustworthy.

"Why would I lie to you?" she picks up her bottle. It feels heavy in her hand. The sweat mixing with the cold water on the glass could cause her to drop it. She clutches it tighter, taking a long swing. It is bitter. Anything to avert his attention though.

"I'm going to ask you one more time," he warns, "What were your test results?"

Her breath hitches, nearly making her choke. She puts the bottle down again, shaking her head faintly, "Abnegation."

A frustrated sigh emerges from his body. He was not planning on holding that one back.

Tris starts to feel slightly awkward. She knows that he is suspecting her divergence, but she cannot slip up on her lying spree. It would cost her her life. The little hints he keeps dropping does not make her trust him. On the contrary, it makes her be even more wary.

"I'm not the enemy here," he whispers, grabbing his bottle. As fast as a flash, he gets up and leaves, branding Tris alone.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

Tris swings the beer bottle around in circles, holding it by the neck, like Eric once did. She sees why he did it now. It looked dangerous at the time. The bottle could've smashed. Shattered into little pieces- leaving a stench of beer across the Pit for months. But that didn't happen. The technique is a kind of mind game. It keeps Tris occupied, it makes her think about something else. And when the bottle is about to slip, she giggles, mocking the challenge.

She walks along a corridor after leaving her viewing spot by the Pit. It is a lot quieter now. Most members went to bed. She was sat there for hours, just observing the people below. The music kept her company after Four left. She still shudders from time to time as she remembers how he looked at her. He knows.

She is in so much trouble.

A loud sigh escapes her as she forces herself to keep a steady heart-beat. Being afraid won't do her any good. For now, just for now, she needs to give attention to her simulations.

Suddenly, she hears voices at the end of the hallway. One of them is all too familiar. The other one she knows all too well.

Tris tip-toes closer to them, starting to eavesdrop as she idly chews on the tip of her bottle.

"So far there haven't been any signs of it," Eric's voice. What is he talking about?

"Well, you wouldn't have seen much of it yet," a female voice replies. She can't pin-point the voice of the female, "Combat training shows you nothing. The simulations, however, reveal who the Divergent rebels are, if there are any, so we will have to examine the footage several times to be sure."

She hugs the bottle to her chest, the word 'Divergent' making her cold. Is this what Eric was talking about? Is this why he asked her if she had any Divergent friends? Any suspicious behaviour?

"Don't forget the reason I had Max appoint you," the voice says. As she speaks, it becomes more and more familiar, "Your first priority is always finding them. Always."

"I won't forget," Eric replies.

Tris releases a straining groan as she tries to remember the woman. Her voice. She talked to her before. And she is the one who is responsible for all the commotion. She is the one who wants the Divergents. And Eric is working for her.

A small gasp. Wide eyes. And she remembers who the voice belongs to. Jeanine.

 **Review and tell me what you thought :)**

 **Happy birthday to chrwrigh! Glad to hear you enjoyed the last chapter ;)**

 **Until next time, bye bye! dardarbinx101, don't go too metal ;)**


	14. Tobias

**Here is a super long chapter for you guys. You will review this when you've finished and be like "Are you serious? This is supposed to be Eris!" And I will be like: "Hey, chill out. This is the last of Fourtris you will ever read in this story."**

 **I only did this because of the plot. It needs to make sense. And in the next chapter, Eris is guaranteed.**

 **Don't be put off, there is still some Eris in here xD Like... enough Eris for now.**

 **Fair warning, this has some light rape themes. It isn't rated M yet because it doesn't get too hardcore or anything. It will be fine.**

 **Thank you for all the reviews and please enjoy this :)**

She was pacing the empty training room. Her head was in her hands. After everybody left, she stayed, deciding that she needed an extra bit of agility practice.

The punching bag looks worn out. If it was a person, it would be long dead.

Tris' simulation today was by far the hardest. She remembers how she struggled as soon as the serum kicked in:

The room was dark. There were echoes of laughter all around her, but every time she turned to face the sound, it disappeared, replacing itself with an image of a friend. First it was Christina. She had a vacant look on her face. It made Tris shudder.

A manlier laugh behind her. She turned around, a gasp on her lips. Will.

He wasn't laughing. He had the same expression as Christina did: vacant and running on rage.

"Give it up, Stiff," Al's voice made her jump. She turned to him, seeking the tiniest smirk playing on his lips. It wasn't a friendly smirk. It was pure evil.

She tried to move her hands but they wouldn't budge. They were tied to something. Tris gasped loudly, trying to flex her wrists, wincing when dry ropes dug into her skin.

The simulation started changing. The dark room swirled around Tris, making her dizzy. But then suddenly a beautiful landscape flopped down like a canvas, illustrating ripe plums on trees and fluffy clouds above them. It made Tris' heart slow down slightly, but when she saw her angry friends were still in the corner of her eyes, it all escalated.

"Burn her up!" Peter boomed, running up to her with a burning torch.

"No! Get away from me!" she screamed, perspiration colouring her face.

He laughed in response, lighting up the dry wood beneath her she hasn't noticed before. It flared up instantly, changing the temperature. Her feet started burning. The heat was unbearable. It made her choke and cough and scream. She needed to find an escape quickly.

Slow your heart rate. Take deep breaths. This isn't real.

She closed her eyes and imagined rain. Heavy rain. It was raining down on her and the monstrous blaze, extinguishing them both.

When she opened her eyes, she saw it. Rain. It worked.

She laughed in relief, feeling the roped loosen around her wrists. The sim Christina, Will, Al and Peter melted, washing away along with the flood that came.

Then her landscape changed.

She was in a box. A glass box. Oh-no. This has happened before. And Four was never impressed about how she tackled this fear. But to her, there was only one way out.

She turned to the glass immediately, placing her hand on it. It cracked instantaneously, spilling the water out, and Tris along with it. The water was everywhere. It started drowning her. She couldn't breathe.

But then her landscape changed again.

There was a hard surface beneath her. The water around her was hotter. It was so hot, it sent shudders down her legs, creating goose bumps. Are fear landscapes supposed to feel this good?

She sat up slowly and looked around. Everything was grey. The walls, the floor and the ceiling. But this wasn't Abnegation. There was a big window overlooking the whole city. She was in Dauntless.

This is new.

When she looked down at the water again, she realized that froth and bubbles coated her bare arms.

Bare arms. Bare knees sticking up.

She was in a bathtub.

"And you said you were more of a shower girl," a dark voice filled the room. Tris gasped loudly, suddenly terrified that a person was in the bathroom with her. While she was naked.

Her hands went up to her chest as she sank lower into the water. From there, she peeked up, noticing Eric near the door. He closed it with a slam, fastening a hook into a loop on the wall, evidently locking them in.

Her heart started beating again.

She smiled politely, like she would in real life. What was going on? Was this a new fear?

Eric took his shirt off, tossing it onto the tile floor. Tris watched him carefully, sinking further and further the closer he got.

His pants were off now, pooling at his legs. She has seen this before. That night after Edward was stabbed. She found herself at Eric's door. And when he opened it, this is what he looked like. She realized then that simulations can't create an entirely new picture. The serum uses images from the past, linking them together and creating a new context in her brain.

Well, that made it easier. This is what she could concentrate on. It's just science.

Once he was in his boxers, he took a seat at the edge of the tub, ravaging Tris with his gaze. He could see though the clear water. There weren't enough bubbles to hide her naked form.

As her breathing became laboured, she pulled her knees up to her chest, keeping her eyes locked on his. _This isn't real._

Eric leaned down slowly, closing his eyes. She knew what was coming next.

Their lips met. But it felt strange. Eric doesn't kiss like this. His sim is gentle. The real Eric would have bruised her lips by now.

Tris gasped loudly as one of his hands wedged between her thighs. She jerked away from the kiss, fear striking at her when he didn't let her pull away.

"Stop," she mumbled against his lips. But he didn't.

Instead, she remembers when his hand fell further into the water, his thumb grazing at her entrance.

At that point, tears started welling up in her eyes. The sim Eric felt her pain and pulled away from the kiss, an evil smirk flashing across his face.

"Aren't you Dauntless?"

But before he could go any further, before he could win, she punched him in the face. She knew she was never going to be stronger, but this wasn't real. Anything was possible.

When his body collapsed on the tiled floor, Tris awoke from the simulation, screaming and sweating. Four's hands on her didn't help.

Now she is wandering the training room, wincing at the memory. Four witnessed everything. He saw Eric in her simulation. He must know about them. Despite the fact that she clearly stated they weren't dating. And they're not. They are not. She doesn't even think of him in that way. He is dangerous.

But Four won't believe her.

Tris releases a long sigh, chewing on her fingers. Her nails have reduced in size significantly. This is proof of what stress she has to endure every day.

She hears a loud bang, which goes on to echo around the whole training room. Automatically, she dives towards the nearest wall, holding onto the cold stone as she tries to see movement in the darkness. At first there is nothing. But then there are footsteps. And then Four emerges from the shadows.

He sees her, and a small smile plays on his lips. But it is gone as fast as it appeared.

"It's late. You need to sleep. The final test is in two days," he says, coming to a stop in front of her. She watches him with wide eyes, still clinging on to the wall, as if it is still concealing her figure.

"I can't," she answers honestly, fear shaking her voice.

Four frowns slightly, trying to see though her. He seems to realize that she is not faking anything. She is genuinely petrified. That is when he sighs, stepping closer to her.

He lowers his voice, even though there is nobody else in the hall, "Why do you say that?"

 _Err, because I am not tired?_ Tris is about to say. But she doesn't. She hears a hint in his tone. He is asking her something important, which would not class as important if anybody overheard the conversation. He knows everything. She knows that. And maybe he is the only one who can help her survive. She needs to take a risk. She needs to trust him. Just for now. This is genuinely her last resort.

She folds her arms over her chest and looks up at him- for the first time in a while- fearlessly.

"You know why," she answers. Four's eyes flare up slightly and for a moment Tris regrets ever letting him in, but then that flare is extinguished and he nods- sadly- looking down at his feet.

He is harmless.

"And as soon as the others will find out, they're gonna kill me," she whispers, her vision blurring with tears. To her surprise, Four remains in his little bubble. He knows that she is strong enough. He doesn't need to comfort her.

"I am not going to let that happen."

SHSHSHSHSH

Four unlocks the metal door which unravels a whole new world for Tris. This is where she practises for her final test. This is where all the simulations happen. What are they doing here?

She waddles in reluctantly, widening her eyes when the first thing Four begins doing is screwing on the needles to the syringe. There are two little orange containers on the tray. He puts them in place before looking at her curiously.

"Shut the door," he says, wondering what's taking her so long to catch on. They are obviously going to go through a fear landscape, "You're gonna practice."

"In my fear landscape?"

"No, in mine," Four says, shrugging his warrior jacket off, "We go in together."

He told her that he was going to help her with something. She didn't know that he was going to let her inside his head. She walks over to him, still unsure about the whole idea.

"Have you ever done this before?" she asks, her eyes now completely dry.

"No, I haven't," he replies.

"Are you sure you want to?" Tris would never let anybody inside her head like that. After what she witnessed today. Eric. Her in the bathtub. If anybody saw that up close, she would be embarrassed for the rest of her life. And afraid. What you see on the screens is pixels. So it is nothing compared to actually being there.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know," she laughs, "You haven't told me anything about yourself and now you're just going to let me inside your head."

"Are you afraid of that?" he raises an eyebrow playfully.

"You're not?"

"No," he shakes his head, leading her over to the recliner. Well, if he is this confident about a stranger seeing his fears, they surely can't be all that bad. Heights. That is not embarrassing. But what else?

She watches him insert the needle into his neck after laying down in the chair. She doesn't know what to do, so she awkwardly sits on the edge watching him. Does he really trust her?

He pulls the needle out slowly. It's her turn.

Tris is about to grab the syringe off him but he keeps it to himself, then places his warm hand on her neck to keep her head in place. He inserts the needle and pushes down on the plunger. She doesn't flinch. She has been through this a dozen times. Four keeps his eyes on her, trying to say something again. But Tris still doesn't know what he is trying to say. She knows he means well. She knows that. But that is it. She can't tell how bad his fears will be. She can't tell what he feels towards her. She will leave that to time.

Tris lays down on top of him, trusting his arms to keep her within the boundaries of the chair if the fear is too bad and she has to thrash away. He connects a wire to her temple after doing the same. And then the reality slowly shifts beneath them.

Tris opens her eyes when a cold breeze brushes past her face. There is a clear sky above her. The air is too cold to be near the ground. So she looks down.

As she expected. They are miles above the ground. Heights.

"Fear of heights," she chuckles nervously, "Not surprised."

She looks at Four. He is already starting to sweat. He grips the ledge that is keeping them from falling with so much force, Tris begins to question its solidity. Shouldn't it have broken by now? She can tell that his heart rate has increased by the way he is panting.

The height begins to excite her. Finally. Something she is not afraid of here. She stands up, keeping her arms away from her body for balance.

"It's not real," she informs, "We can just jump-"

"No," Four strains, forcing himself to stand like Tris, "Divergent would jump. Dauntless would get to that building," he points to a dome-shaped roof in the distance. About thirty yards away from them. It doesn't seem like much of a challenge, "If you wanna pass. If you wanna avoid discovering, you have to do everything the way a Dauntless would do it. You have to find some tool; some method to survive."

Tris nods slowly, beginning to understand. She would have never thought of this in her fear landscape. This is why she came across as Divergent. This is what puts her is so much danger. And Four is helping her practice. He is showing her the ropes. Why would anyone do that unless they cared?

A small smile spreads across her face as she follows Four towards their destination. The strong gale threatens to blow them away, but they keep their balance, until finally they reach that building.

They struggle to fit into a small room without touching. Once they are both in, the walls start clamping down. From all angles. Four responds quickly, jumping at the nearest wall in an attempt to stop it.

The landscape changed.

The walls are made of thin metal, and produce an unpleasant creak when they move. Tris cringes slightly.

"Fear of confinement," Four explains breathlessly, spreading himself out, "You have to find a way of stopping it. What would a Dauntless do?"

It takes Tris a painfully long five seconds to understand that he is giving her instructions. Like a teacher. Her eyes dart around the shrinking box uselessly. How is she supposed to stop this? Her heart rate begins to rise slightly. The walls are going to squeeze them to death. They are in a crouching position already.

All of a sudden, she sees metallic screws scattered around the floor. She jumps at them, grabbing a handful before stuffing them in the gaps between the walls.

"Good," Four compliments, his breathing uneven.

The screws start popping out. The force of the walls is too strong. Tris grunts in frustration as she shoves them back in, the rusty metal hurting her small hands.

"Take your time," Four says, "I'm just enjoying myself in a shrinking box."

She gasps when the air becomes stuffy. It is getting harder to breathe. And the walls are still tumbling down on them. She pulls away abruptly, pressing closer to Four. She feels his heart hammering through every inch of his skin.

Even though it is unbearably hot, he wraps his arms around her, clearly concentrating on breathing. When the upper wall touches Tris' head, she shuts her eyes. Was she too slow?

But when she opens them, the walls are gone.

Another change in the landscape.

They both breathe a sigh of relief. Cold air floods their nostrils. Their sweat starts to dry out in the light breeze. It is so good to be out.

Tris realizes that they are still super close and pulls away awkwardly. She wishes that she would do that with Eric. But how could she? Now that she knows what he is up to? His main priority is to find Divergents. And murder them at the hands of Jeanine Matthews.

She pulls away slowly, not wanting these thoughts to distract her right now.

When they stand, she sees a table. It is brightly lit by a lamp above. And so is a girl on a chair. She appears to be tied up. Tris doesn't recognize her. She must be someone from Four's past. Or present.

"As a Dauntless soldier, you have to follow orders you don't always agree with," Four explains, picking up an object from the table.

Tris sees now that it is a gun. A gun. Is he going to use that in self-defence? Is the girl going to attack? She raises her hands to her face, ready to block any abrupt punches coming her way.

"Who is she?" Tris asks, not taking her eyes off the girl.

"She's an innocent," he explains, clicking off the safety on his gun, "I have to kill her."

Tris lowers her hands, feeling stupid. How can the girl attack if she is tied up?

She watches Four raising his gun up to the girl's head, as does the sim. Her eyes are so innocent.

"But I can never do it," he says, the gun shaking in his hand, "Unless I look away."

Tris slides her hands into her pockets when she senses no real danger waiting for her. He is afraid of killing people? Innocent people? Wouldn't anyone be?

She readies herself for the loud bang. And then it comes. Faster than she expected. It is followed by a thud. The girl is dead on the floor.

Four starts backing away slowly, tears welling up in his eyes. He is still watching her. In her own pile of blood. Tris sets a hand on his back carefully, in an attempt to comfort him. His breathing starts slowing down. He turns to her and nods. He is okay.

The ground beneath them shifts again. Tris has to hold onto Four's arms to keep her balance. They only went through three fears and she feels exhausted. She didn't even have to do anything.

This landscape is more familiar, Tris has been here before. It looks like her house. Grey walls, grey table, one window. This is Abnegation.

"Why are we in Abnegation?" She can't help herself. She needs to know.

Four looks over his shoulder at her, giving her a hard look, "The last fear is your worst fear." What does that mean? That explains nothing.

She has no choice but to follow him deeper into the house. They reach the living room, where Tris' living room would be. All Abnegation houses have the same interior. She bumps into Four's back when he stops. This is where the fear begins, doesn't it?

She looks at a figure emerging through a wall. It's a man. He has something in his hand. Four backs away slightly, bumping into Tris again. She comes to stand by his side. The figure is Marcus.

"Marcus had a son," Tris whispers, reality kicking in. Oh, no. Her eyes widen, "What was his name?"

"Tobias," Marcus answers for her. As soon as he does, the image of a strong and powerful leader disappears. He becomes an old, sweaty man with a belt as a weapon. A child beater. So the allegations were true.

"Tobias," another Marcus says, emerging through a different wall. Four keeps backing away until the same voice whispers behind him. His name.

They turn around in unison, Tris with her hand on Four's wrist. And Four with his hands clenches in fists at his sides. He doesn't look as strong as he used to. This is the first time when Tris actually saw him being defeated. By an illusion.

The visions of Marcus' circle the couple. They all hold the same look. They all hold the same belt. There are not real. But Four doesn't realize that. He is too afraid to do anything. Like Tris was when Eric appeared in her fear landscape.

"Tobias," one Marcus comes closer, "I'm trying to help you to be better."

Tris looks up at the boy in shock, waiting for him to respond. But he doesn't. Not even when Marcus raises his weapon, about to strike.

"No!" Tris yells, jumping in front of him. The belt stings as it wraps around her wrist. It slows him down. When Marcus pushes her away, Four punches him in the face. And then they both wake up.

Tris sits up, panting heavily. But not as heavily as Tobias. Tobias. That is his name.

She turns to look at him, knowing that he will be there. This isn't a simulation. He isn't going to fade away and appear somewhere else. He will be there. This is real life.

 **Review and tell me what you thought :)**


	15. Two Options

**This chapter is a bit shorter, and for that I apologize. I need time to figure out how to take this story. Many of you probably want different things out of this, which makes me consider my options very carefully.**

 **Enjoy it :) Next update will be soon.**

"Four?" Tris smirks, leaning against a wall in the corridor, "Four fears?"

"Four then, four now," he answers, tucking his hands into his pockets. He has found his smile. Tris thought that it would've been beaten off his face forever. But no. He is Four again. And he is not panting anymore. And he is back.

They stand close to each other. They have left the simulation room a while ago now. It took Tobias ten minutes to start talking again. They just stood there. Watching Dauntless pass them by. Tris didn't know what to do- she contemplated walking away quickly, while his eyes were closed, to spare the awkward moment that was due to come. But it didn't. Somehow it was everything but awkward.

She is still unsure why he let her inside his head. They could've practiced in her fear landscape instead. It would have been easier for him. Maybe he didn't want to go in there because he knew about Eric. She shudders slightly. No. That memory deserves to stay inside her head. And she can't share it with anyone.

"I keep going in there, but… I don't think you ever lose 'em," he says quietly, staring at her hands. Tris' heart skips a beat when she thinks that he will go for the opportunity and take her hand in his, but it doesn't happen. She feels relieved. What is wrong with her?

She sees his mysterious tattoo peeking from under his shirt again. Her curiosity kicks in. But she bites her tongue. He has revealed himself enough. And she doesn't want him expose another part of himself he has tried for so long to conceal.

"Thank you… for showing me how…" Tris trails on, playing with the imaginary blood under her nails nervously.

"No problem," Four smirks, nodding at her. When she doesn't say anything else, he frowns in disappointment, "I'll leave you to your thoughts."

She watches him walk away, down the corridor, into the shadows. His confident strides have gone away. He looks innocent and vulnerable.

Tris waits for his form to completely disappear before turning around and going in the opposite direction. Well, that was weird.

She walks on and on, allowing herself to get lost in an unfamiliar place. She can still hear the hollers of Dauntless members but there is nobody in sight. And where is the dormitory? Did she turn in the wrong direction?

Her head starts to spin as the dark, stony ceiling and the rocky walls merge together. Her heart starts to pound in her chest. She cannot possibly be lost. How stupid can she get? And there is nobody to ask for help.

A hand clamps around her shoulder roughly, making her gasp. She nearly chokes on all the air she inhaled so abruptly.

She spins around. Eric.

His eyes are cloudy. So much lust fills his gaze that Tris has trouble opening her mouth to speak. His grin is enormous. The piercings don't look as threatening as they did. But there is something strange about that grin. It creeps her out slightly.

Tris tries to twitch the corners of her lips upwards, but it is impossible.

"I… I was just-"

He cuts her off, "Are you lost, Stiff?"

"No! No, I'm not lost, I was just-"

"Your lies don't work on me," he steps even closer, his words skimming past her skin. He brushes a strand of hair away from her face smoothly, staring deep into her eyes.

The simulation Eric flashes in front of her. She gasps quietly, leaning against the wall for support. Her mind starts to automatically list everything that is wrong with this person. The man in front of her- who looks like a predator.

Okay, so he is her worst fear. He has the ability to sweep her off her feet. She becomes recklessly stupid around him. He is hunting Divergents. Oh, God he is hunting Divergents. He is hunting for her. But he doesn't know that she is Divergent. Does he? He is working for Jeanine. Jeanine is a tyrant. She is turning him evil. And it is working.

"Eric, please," she whispers, her pupils dilating. He must have taken her utterance the wrong way because in a second, his lips are on hers, nibbling and sucking them raw. This time she doesn't kiss back. She keeps her eyes wide open. Her fear taking over.

His body towers over her, making her feel small. His massive arms squeeze her against him. She tries to gasp, but instead, small cries escape her.

She needs to do something. Fast. Remember what Four told her. Steady heart-beat. Deep breaths.

Tris turns her head to the side, pursing her lips together. Eric slows down slightly, kissing her cheek. Soon, his kisses trail along to her temple and stop at her forehead. He sighs heavily. Then he looks down. His eyes have become darker. A crease shows between his brows. He is either confused or extremely angry. Tris hopes that it is not the latter.

"You can't keep doing that," she whispers, noticing how her eyes have begun to gather moisture, "You can't just kiss me whenever you want."

"Are you complaining?" he asks, coming across as angry, but his voice is softer than it has ever been.

"Yes, I am," she answers, gulping quietly. She stares at a spot on the floor, waiting for him to release her. Eventually, he does. His arms loosen and he steps a few cautious steps back. _This is like taming a wild animal_ , she realizes.

Eric growls deep in his throat, not tearing his eyes away from her. She just stood up to him. A Stiff stood up to him.

"What was it that I did… to make you upset?" he asks slowly, his voice turning quiet. Tris stares up at him, not daring to tear her eyes away. Should she confront him about what she overheard that night? Should she tell him about his appearance in her fear landscape?

Instead, she shakes her head, chewing on her raw lip.

"People class this as favouritism. It's not fair to the other initiates-"

"Oh, bullshit!" he exclaims, placing his hand on the wall near her head. His face scrunches up in disgust. He is desperate to know what he did wrong. Other people would take a more careful approach to the situation, but not him. He gets angry.

"I-I... I don't," she stutters, struggling to find the right words, "Why do you… Why do you want to do this?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Tris searches his eyes, shaking her head slightly, "No, it's not obvious at all."

He smirks down at her, bringing one of his fingers to her eyes, wiping away a tear that manages to escape. She shivers slightly, still a bit wary of his contact. He cups her cheek gently, making sure she doesn't look away. Their faces are close again. His minty breath brushes past her lips.

"I've always been attracted to strong women," he murmurs, admiring her like a fine painting.

Tris releases a laugh, not breaking eye contact, "I'm not strong. I just pretend to be."

"Well, keep doing what you're doing. If you are pretending, you're a very good actress."

He looks like he is about to kiss her again, but he just stares at her. She has warned him. It wouldn't make any sense for him to lean in. Unless he is gifted in stupidity.

Tris tilts her head into his palm, amazed by how warm his hands are. She closes her eyes, allowing herself to relax. If this animal can be tamed, she has nothing to fear. He wouldn't lay a finger on her. For the first time since she arrived at Dauntless, she can feel safe with her eyes closed.


	16. A Promise is A Promise

**As most of you are aware of, Fanfiction was down for a while. If you weren't aware, I am telling you now. I have tried posting this chapter for a long time but it was impossible. At least the problem is fixed now.**

 **Totally had a mini freak out ;)**

 **Enjoy!**

His apartment is exactly as she remembered it. Still grey. Very cryptic. And the paperwork is still scattered around the table.

"Spend another night with me," Eric says from behind her. Tris turns around and sees his face. He doesn't look like he is joking. His eyes keep darting around the room, as if he is expecting something to pop out and attack him.

Why would he even want her here? She has literally just told him- through heavy breathing and shedding a few tears- that she is afraid. She is afraid of his lips and his hands and the power he possesses over her. And now he wants her to stay over? Maybe terrified girls give him pleasure. Actually, Tris wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.

She folds her arms, trying to act smug, "And why should I do that?"

Eric senses her playfulness and smirks slightly. But his smirk doesn't last too long on his face, "You didn't mind it last time."

"I was in a bad place," she replies, walking further into his apartment as he shuts the door.

"And I didn't do anything," Eric replies, "All we did was snuggle." He seems to revolt as if snuggling is the most sickening thing a man could endure. Tris rolls her eyes, wiping her dry cheeks again.

Tris glances at the couch and hesitates at its edge slightly. She won't sit down. Not without his approval. And he doesn't seem to be noticing that his hospitality sucks.

"Just spend another night with me," he repeats, walking up to her slowly, "You can take the bed. I'll sleep on the couch."

"And what's in it for you?"

Eric smiles slightly. Then sighs. Then looks past her through the window in his living room, "It's nice knowing that you're in the same room as me."

Tris glides her tongue across her cheek roughly, weighing her options. It would be nice to stay here again. That would mean a peaceful night, and not having to keep an eye open in the crowded dormitory, knowing that at one point you could get stabbed. And she has cleared this up with her inner conscience before: Eric won't hurt her.

"I'll think about it," she says finally, enjoying bringing a small twinkle to his eyes.

"You don't have much time," he says, "Curfew is in an hour."

She watches him shrug off his jacket, evidently peeling back the layers, getting closer to revealing his true self. She sees the symmetrical tattoos sway around his arms as he moves into the kitchen, grabbing two empty glasses. And what is the story behind those? And his piercings? She wants to know.

He pours water into one glass, and something red into the other. He looks over his shoulder at Tris, who is looking around his apartment awkwardly, still standing near his lonely couch.

"Sit," he orders. She complies.

He comes back to her side with two drinks, handing her the water and placing his mysterious one on the coffee table.

As she watches his eyes darken, she gets an idea. A smirk crosses her face. He furrows her eyebrows at her, smirking back, "I will stay. On one condition."

"My apartment, my rules," he replies, draping one arm over the back of the couch. He takes his glass, taking a big gulp of his drink. Tris raises a brow before shrugging one shoulder and standing up, leaving her glass of water behind.

"Nice knowing you-"

"Wait!" he shoots up from his seat, grabbing her arm. Her smug smirk has found her face again. It takes her a while to realize that she is beginning to act like him. The stroppy behaviour. The rolling of her eyes. Making up the rules as she goes along. Not just right now, but all through initiation.

To him, it is very rewarding. To her, it is downright terrifying.

"What is your condition?" he asks, loosening his grip on her wrist. When he is certain that she won't move away, he lets go.

"We talk," she answers, taking one step closer to him. His eyes cloud with uncertainty, "No kissing. We just talk. Like normal people. And if I like your answers, I will stay."

He releases a dry laugh, shaking his head, "I don't like that condition."

"I was kinda hoping you would say that," Tris smirks, turning away again. As expected, his hand finds her wrist once more.

"Okay," he sighs, pulling her towards him slowly, "Okay, fine."

"You're up for it?" she asks, crossing over to the couch with him. He hesitates before replying.

"Yeah… we can talk," she sees him clenching and unclenching his jaw, as if her small condition has made him instantly uncomfortable. She knows one thing already: he is not a loquacious person. _Because you are hiding something_ , Tris thinks.

They take their places next to each other. Eric resumes looking relaxed with his arm behind Tris' head. She waits until the moment he stops tapping his fingers on the couch. The best way to get something out of an individual is to wait for them to calm down. She has learned this in Abnegation. The people in grey slacks have to maintain a calm attitude. For the faction's sake. She knows what she is doing.

Once he releases a long breath through his flared nostrils, she speaks, "Were you Dauntless-born? Or were you a transfer?"

His eyes instantly relax, a small smile finding his lips. He was waiting for a harder question. A question he can't answer. But what she wants to know isn't hard to answer at all. She is taking it slow.

"Transfer," he mumbles, keeping his eyes locked on hers. The corner of Tris' lip twitches and she sits up, hungry for more.

"Really? I've always thought you were born here."

"No. I learned how to blend in," he says, picking up his half-empty glass. He takes a big sip and it is nearly empty. Her glass of water is still full.

Her eyes jump over to the stack of papers in the corner. She wants to know what secrets lie there. But she can't ask. What if it's a bunch of documents about Divergents? What if her file is within those papers? Would he have read her file? Would he have suspected her?

"And you… came from Amity?" Tris jokes, forcing her eyes to look at him again. She smiles at the tattoos on his neck, the piercings on his skin and the ink on his arms. What an Amity member he would make.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" he growls.

Tris laughs softly, feeling her heart beat faster when he tenses beside her. _He wouldn't hurt me._

Her laughter dies out when he doesn't crack a smile. He finishes his drink, slamming the glass down onto the table. It's a surprise that the glass didn't shatter from the impact.

"Where did you come from, then?"

"Where does your curiosity come from, Tris?" his icy stare returns, sending a shudder through her body, "I'm not answering that."

"You agreed to talk," she spits, preparing to stand back up. Why is she wasting her time on him? She should be keeping her distance. She knows that he is after her. She knows that he is a bad person. She doesn't need to stay and interrogate him for her own detective purposes.

So why is she staying? Maybe because he is so hard to resist? Tris gulps and leans back, biting her lip. She can't leave.

No. She doesn't _want_ to leave.

"I don't like this game," he complains, standing up and sauntering over to the kitchen for a re-fill. She sees him picking up a bottle of red drink inside and pouring it into his glass. She realizes again that her glass of water is still full. Reluctantly, she picks it up, taking small sips.

When Eric comes back to sit on the couch, it sags in the middle, sucking Tris closer to him until their legs touch. She places her glass on the coffee table and rests her head on his shoulder. He stops breathing. He stops drinking. But after a few seconds, his movements become extremely slow. He leans against the back of the couch, careful not to scare her off. As if a bird has landed on his shoulder. A bird he has waited to capture. And now he needs to take caution.

"How are you getting on with your fear landscape?" he grumbles quietly, staring off into the distance.

"Better," Tris replies, "I've learned how to hide my Divergence," she would have said. But she can't. He is not Four.

Instead she clears her throat and whispers, "I have a new fear."

Eric stills momentarily, snaking his arm around her waist as she closes her eyes, "Elaborate."

"You're in it," her voice is full of amusement, and for a second she is unsure whether he will choose to believe her. But he seems to believe her. He sighs.

"What happens?"

No answer.

"Tris?"

She digs her teeth into her lip, searching for an appropriate answer. The truth is: she can't say it out loud without blushing.

"Well," she starts, clearing her throat, "You were kissing me-"

"Is that why you pushed me away earlier?"

"Kind of," she whispers. He visibly relaxes and she feels his smile, even though her eyes are closed. He understands. He was worried that it would be a bigger problem. But it is only a simulation she is afraid of. And it is seeping into reality, trying to scare her off. This is fixable.

The warmth his skin is radiating comforts her. She snuggles up to him, allowing her head to rest on his chest instead. There, his heart pounds away, joyous of her confession.

"I would never hurt you," he shakes his head, planting a kiss on her hair, "I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," she smirks, feeling a small chuckle vibrating though his chest.

"Well, I can keep this one."

They have stayed in that position until Tris started to drift off. It is a tranquil atmosphere. It is easy to fall asleep. His big hand tangled in her blonde hair, twirling long strands around his fingers. He made his way through her maze, reaching her scalp and softly skimming it with the tips of his fingers.

Her leg twitched slightly when a dream started to kick in. But she broke out of it, realizing that she was in Eric's apartment. Her heart slowed down and she sighed against his chest, certain that a small laugh was evicted from him. But she was too sleepy to ponder on that.

She felt herself being lifted up a while later. Air skimmed her face until she was placed somewhere soft. She turned onto her side to inhale the material she was lying on. It was a blanket. She was on a bed. His bed.

Her eyes shot open when something tugged at her shoes. It was very dark, but she could make out a figure at the edge of the bed. It was Eric. He took one of her shoes off and placed it on the floor with a quiet thud. He did the same with her other one. When his fingers gripped the cotton of her socks, she pulled her knees up to her chest, smirking. He looked up to see her face, a puzzled expression on his.

"I can undress myself, thank you," Tris whispered playfully. He smiled in return before pointing at her jacket.

"Take it off then," he whispered back. She felt sweat starting to form on her forehead. It was too hot. She realized how dumb it was to keep it on for this long. With a small groan, she pulled it off and pushed it away lazily.

A darker shadow in the already dark room loomed over her. Eric was smiling warmly, trailing a hand along her ribcage.

"I found some clothes for you," he whispered, "Get changed. They're on the other pillow."

Tris slammed her hand towards where he glanced, and surely enough she felt a small stack of clothes waiting for her.

"I'll be on the couch if you need me," he stood straighter and walked towards the door, light from the living room illuminating his broad shoulders. Tris found the strength to sit up.

"Wait!" she called out, startling him. He turned around and leaned against the doorframe, a hand scratching the back of his neck, "Stay with me-"

"For how long?"

"The whole night," she answered, smirking slightly, knowing he couldn't see it in the dark. There was a long pause. And then he sighed.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded quickly, and when he didn't answer or move, she spoke, "Yes."

"Get into those clothes first," he ordered before walking out of the bedroom.

Now they lay together, their legs twisted and curled. Tris wasn't surprised when she first felt him under the covers and only boxers covered up his skin. On the contrary, he gave her a pair of sweats and his shirt, both pieces of clothing too big for her. But she didn't mind. She still doesn't. Now he knows how she feels about intimacy and he would not make her feel any more uncomfortable.

She runs a hand up his chest, feeling wide awake again. And of course, when she feels like this, he has to be asleep.

Her hand finds a path towards his chin and caresses his skin there. The small unshaved hairs prickle her fingers, but she doesn't pull away.

After he turned off the lights in his living room, the only guide for them was the moonlight. Even now, it shines brighter than ever. She can see his chest rising and falling, twice as slow compared to her heart beat. He has tucked her under his wing sooner than she realized. Metaphorically. And literally.

She tries to move under his arm, but his grip is too strong. She gives up struggling and tries to fall back asleep.

 **I ain't going to go on about how much I think I failed on this chapter. That is up to you. You can tell me in the reviews. xD**


	17. The Final Test

**Since I know how much you guys love Divergent (obviously), and the admiration you show towards the little things that make you laugh (I suppose), you can follow me on Instagram. My username is Diverging_Fangirl5.**

 **On there you can find Divergent edits I tried making, and frequent "spasm" grams (as I call them), where I freak out about Jai Courtney and Miles Teller and quite possibly cats.**

 **Haven't been on in a while, but if some of you start noticing this abandoned account, I will make an effort to post more frequently.**

 **Also, I started my foundation degree in art today and I had the craziest first day ever. Seriously, if I told you the story, it would sound like a John Green novel. It included me being in a totally different group, following a bunch of 15 year olds who looked 18, and sewing…SEWING.**

 **Enjoy this chapter! If you want… I am not the boss of you.**

Morning came too quickly. And so did Tris' departure.

Eric woke her up, fully dressed and unsmiling. She wondered what it would be like if she could affect his emotions. If she had a contagious smile. She would tug up the corners of her lips and he would mirror her. But that didn't happen. Actually, he seemed to do the exact opposite. A crease appeared between his eyebrows and he frowned. His hand was a ghost on her shoulder that shook her awake.

If only we would have stayed. If only he took her with him.

"Get up," he said, "Your final test is scheduled for 11 am,"

And that was it. He gave her time to change back into her clothes, ushered her out of his apartment, wished her luck and walked away without ever glancing back. Like last night meant nothing to him.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

After breakfast she only had thirty minutes left until her test. Her ears started ringing and her heart plummeted to the bottom of her stomach. Yet it was beating all over her body.

She can do this. She has to remember what Four taught her. How to seem Dauntless instead of Divergent. She can do this.

Her head was spinning too much for her to notice that he was right behind her. He placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned down to her ear, "Come on. I have to show you something."

She followed.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

They ended up on top of a roof. It all seems so much clearer up here. The fence is visible in the distance. The tall buildings line up near the Hub. The sun is blocked by a ferocious cloud. But everything is still clear.

Four steps up on a ledge, takes Tris' hand and makes her do the same. He looks down at a sector of Dauntless. She watches him for a while and then realizes that he wants her to follow his gaze.

Down there, she sees trucks, "Look," he says.

A mob of Erudite hover around with clip boards, constantly scribbling down the figures and numbers Tris would never know how to read. And while they do that, a bunch of Dauntless carry around massive tanks. They are filled with something. Tris squints to try and see better.

"Are they Erudite?"

"Yeah," Four breathes, "They're here every morning. I've been watching them for weeks."

"What are they doing at Dauntless?"

"Loading in supplies," he answers, keeping one hand on her lower back.

Tris realizes that he is right. The commotion below them circulates around the fact that the Erudite men are not strong enough to lift up the carts and boxes. The Dauntless shake their heads and nudge them out of the way. Then start pushing the carts up the platform and into a big archway. You can roll them from there onwards. The Erudite take over.

"Computers," Four murmurs, taking something out of his pocket, "And these."

Tris turns around to see what's in his hand. It looks like a tube with a breakable top. Something used to fill up a syringe. She frowns when she remembers where she's seen one before. The simulation. The same orangey colour was forced into her veins.

"What is it?" she asks anyway, taking it away from his fingers.

"I think it's some kind of cognitive transmitter. You inject it like a serum," so it's not a serum?

"Why?"

"It's supposed to make you susceptible to suggestion. But with as many as they have, they can create an army," he explains, nodding at her seriously.

Tris wonders if Eric has anything to do with this. She knows that he is supposed to look for Divergents. But this is a cognitive transmitter. How does that link to Divergents in any way? It's probably a different scenario. It's a whole new problem.

They look into each other's eyes for a long moment, trying to connect in some way. Four wants to know what is hidden behind her blue eyes. And Tris wants to know what else he knows about this. But why would he tell her if she has secrets of her own?

A message is tannoyed over the loud speakers. It makes Tris' heart sink even further down her body.

" _Attention! All initiates report for final testing. All initiates report for final testing_ ," the voice booms above them.

She stares at her feet, blinking so rapidly, it scares her. This is it.

"Hey," Four speaks quietly, trying not to startle the girl. She look up at him, chewing on the inside of her cheek. His eyes are full of pride and confidence as he flicks some hair behind her shoulder, "You're ready."

SHSHSHSHSHSH

Tobias leads her into a great hall where her final test is bound to take place. He is being too nice. He didn't have to lead her here. He didn't have to show her his fears. He didn't even have to spend all this time with her. What is he trying to do? Win her over?

 _Impossible,_ Tris thinks. If Eric keeps toying with her emotions like he does, she would never break free from whatever curse was put on her. He is on her mind again. Now is definitely not the time.

All she can think about is how his hands ran over her skin that day on the couch. He took her shirt off. And that is as far as things got. Because Max interrupted their moment by contacting Eric via super-futuristic-gadget-he-calls-a-watch.

She shakes the thoughts out of her head, probably looking weird in front of Four.

He grunts slightly as he pushes open the double doors, leading them to her probable doom. Tris widens her eyes as they step in. First of all, there is that recliner chair again. It stands in the middle of the room, hooked up to screens and monitors and about five different computers. There is one syringe on a metallic trolley near the chair. Okay, that is good. That looks normal. But as she turns her head to the side, the view overwhelms her.

About thirty people are stood around the chair- close but not too close- and most of them are Erudite. What the hell? What are they doing here? This is Dauntless initiation.

A familiar blonde is surrounded by guards near one of the screens provided for her. Jeanine.

Tris stops mid-step, thanking God that Four shoved her from behind to keep her going. Her eyes scan around the room. Are they all here to watch her? Do they suspect something?

She sighs in relief when Tori walks up to the recliner, preparing the serum. Tori. Tori is good. At least she will be there.

And then her heart stops.

Eric.

He is stood next to Max with his hands behind his back, looking tense. When their eyes meet, Tris is unable to tear them away. But Eric doesn't seem to be having a problem. He glances to the window as if he doesn't know her, muttering something to his colleague.

Is he here to witness her simulation too? Is he here to see himself on the screen?

"They can see your hallucinations on the screen," Four explains, keeping his voice extra quiet, "You get past your fears the way a Dauntless would, but do it quickly."

"Right," Tris squeaks, "If I'm too good, then they'll kill me and if I'm too slow then I'll die."

"Right," he quickens his pace, walking in front of her. With a nod over his shoulder, he says: "Good luck."

She doesn't know how she makes it to the seat, but she does. A daring glance at Eric couldn't have gone more wrong. He catches her eyes again. But that is it. No approving nod. No smile. He just glares. What is his problem?

Tris lays down in the chair, trying to calm her unsteady heart. Nothing seems to be working.

"Good luck, Tris," Tori whispers, looming over her. Tris doesn't even notice how the needle sinks into her vein, evidently flushing the serum into her system. She can't even manage a moan, "I hope you make it."

Her version of what is real starts fading. Slowly. Slowly. Her muscles weaken. She tries to clench her fist but it feels numb. She is paralyzed. She is being transported into the simulation. Quiet voices mutter all around her. She thinks they will begin fading away, just like her vision. But they all stop at once.

And she falls into the darkest parts of her mind. This is it.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

 **[A/N: Skipping the simulation because we all know what happens.]**

She emerges from her artificial life with a big gasp. Her heart races fast, but not as fast as last time. She has completed every task. She has faced every fear. But this time one was missing.

Tris sits up sharply, staring down at her shaky legs. Eric wasn't in it this time.

Why wasn't he in it?

A triumphant smile washes over her face. Eric wasn't in her fear landscape.

She turns her head to search the crowd for him. Jeanine is still there. Max is still there. And next to him- nobody. He is gone.

The one time she was hoping that he was watching.

She visibly frowns, hoping nobody would notice. It's a strange feeling. Wanting him to be here. She has had it for a while now, but she never realizes that it was there.

And when Four puts a hand on her shoulder, she sinks even further into her chair. He is not Eric. His hands are not Eric's.

Her stomach starts itching with an urge to be next to him. To feel his skin, to run her fingers down him arms. To have him embrace her tightly. She shivers at the thought, knowing that it would never happen. But a girl can dream, right?

"You all right?" Four asks her. She stares into the distance for a long time before nodding, not meeting his eyes, "That looked good to me, okay?"

She fakes a smile, allowing him to lift her from the seat, her legs still too petrified to move. How can she act okay around him, suspecting that he is hoping something might become of this relationship? This thing. Just because he let her inside his head. Just because he is being nice.

"Come on, let's go," he whispers, leading her out by the hand like a smitten school boy.

 **This will be rated M the next time I update ;)**

 **Maybe. I am not sure yet.**

 **For now, review and tell me what you thought :)**


	18. Dauntless Youth

**And here comes chapter 18 ;)**

"Congratulations, new members of Dauntless!" Max yells over the escalating cheering in the dinner hall.

Tris smiles widely, shaking with relief and triumph. She has finally made it. All that training has paid off. Tomorrow she would get her apartment key. And she will live here for the rest of her life, being brave and fearless. A warrior of the city.

On her right, Christina shouts and applauses everyone in the room. Will laughs when she almost falls off the table they are standing on. He wraps his arms around her waist to keep her balance. Tris smirks.

Everybody seems to be cheering. Even Peter- the non-cheering type of human- cheers so loud that a boy next to him has to move away. It seems that everyone is happy. And proud.

At this exhilarating moment, only one thing is missing. And Tris doesn't know where to find him.

They're about to have a Dauntless banquet. Will he be here? She doubts it. He has never seemed like the type of guy to sit down and eat cake and talk to his initiates. And ask questions about what it feels like to be a part of Dauntless. No. He will probably be out. Shooting pigeons using a potato gun.

Tris' core starts tightening again. Like it did when she realized that Eric was not in her fear landscape anymore. She needs to find him. There is still time. She will miss the banquet, but who cares? She will have the rest of her life to eat cake here. She has to go.

Her palms start sweating and her heart skips a beat at the thought of him. What's happening to her? It's all his fault. He is the one who made her feel this… this feeling. A brand new feeling.

Suddenly, she can't seem to get him out of her head. Even when Al shoves at her shoulder repeatedly, it takes her a yell from Christina to wake her up. She looks into her eyes. Christina looks back. Her brown orbs are glistening slightly, pupils dilating in uncertainty. Tris smiles to let her know that she is okay.

"I have to go."

"What?" Christina laughs, helping her down from the table, "We're about to feast on cake!"

"No, I know, I just have to go. I need to find-"

"Okay, you know what? Do what you gotta do and then come back. In like five minutes. 'Ite?"

"I-I don't-"

"Come on, Tris. Loosen up!" She smacks the back of Tris' thigh clumsily, stumbling off the table. Tris widens her eyes. But then shakes her head knowingly. She is completely wasted.

"Okay," she smirks, glancing at Will, "Look after her."

Will nods at her, pouting playfully as if to say "Of course", his eyes clearly sober.

She giggles quietly and walks out of the hall, Max being the only person to watch her leave.

The corridors are surprisingly quiet today. Obviously all the initiates are in the dinner hall, so the amount of people lessens through the compound, but where are the adults? Working?

Most importantly: Where is Eric?

Tris watches her feet as she walks, playing out their future conversation in her head. She smiles, imagining what he would say after she announced that she passed her initiation. Would he be happy? Would he glare at her?

The fact is that she doesn't know. He is totally unpredictable.

Two male voices echo at the end of the corridor. Tris stops in her tracks, re-evaluating her plan. He is working for Jeanine. Is finding him a good idea after all? What if he isn't as happy to see her as she is to see him? But then… why was he kissing her from day one? He said he didn't have a reason, but Tris thinks otherwise. There had to be a reason.

She groans internally, walking closer to the voices. This has to be cleared up today.

There is no point hiding round the corner any longer. She walks around it, clenching her fists at her sides. There are two figures in the shadows. One has his arms folded. The other holds a gun. It isn't a rare sight anymore. At Dauntless, it is almost a priority.

Suddenly, they stop talking. Tris tries to make out the faces, squinting slightly. When that doesn't help, she starts walking again. Towards the two men.

One voice stands out to her. It's deep and husky and intimidating. It definitely belongs to Eric. She smiles widely, adding more confidence to her pace. Something strange comes over her again. It is desire and excitement that she hadn't felt in a long time.

"I'll be in the Pit later," Eric grumbles, slapping the other man on the shoulder to send him away. He complies, turning away with his big gun. His footsteps thud loudly and he walks to the end of the corridor until the thudding starts to fade away. Even when he is gone from view, Tris can still hear the thudding.

She dawdles towards Eric, waiting for his reaction to her unexpected appearance. If she smiles, and he glares, it would be extremely awkward. She has only started to get used to him, and she desperately needs him to feel the same way.

When she ends up right in front of him, her smile is inevitable. Oh, please smile back.

He does.

"I passed the test," she tries keeping her voice monotonic, hiding the shake of excitement. Eric's smile broadens and he extends his arms forward. Tris stands there for a second in utter shock. Is he going to hug her? Should she step forward?

But no. He simply grabs her shoulders and leans down closer to her mouth. Even better.

Something is off in his eyes. Like all the interactions with Jeanine and Max had worn him out. He forces the corners of his mouth to tug upwards and holds his muscles in place, determined to hold his smile.

"Congratulations," he says, pecking her lips somewhat reluctantly. Tris frowns, resting her hand on his chest.

"You okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know, I just-"

"Tell you what," his hands slide down to hers, squeezing slightly, "I'll finish my job down here, and meet you near my apartment in ten minutes," his eyes scan her face slowly, "And we can have a little celebration of our own," Tris grins widely, nodding, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she replies, chewing on her lip. He must have noticed that she abandoned her friends and the banquet to find him. He is not going to ruin her last day as initiate more than he already has.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

After finding the door to his apartment, Tris stupidly tries to push it open. Obviously, it does not budge, so she slowly slides down the wall, pulling her knees up to her chin as she waits. The floor is agonizingly cold here. Which is no surprise because this is one of the highest floors. And most windows on this floor… well… instead of windows, there are gaps.

She shivers, planting her face between her knees. For a second, she starts wondering if he actually will turn up. This is Eric. Sure, he is reckless and scary and hates people, but who said that he couldn't keep his word? He might be the best kind of person at keeping promises.

Ten minutes have gone, and Tris' ass started to go numb from the cold. She stands up, jumping from one foot to the other, bringing warmth back to her flesh.

There is a loud clang near the stairs. And then another. And then another. Tris stops jumping to hear it better. The noise appears to be getting louder and louder. And then she realizes that somebody is running up the stairs.

Eric emerges from the darkness, grinning when he sees her. Tris relaxes immediately, leaning against the wall with her arms folded.

He opens the door quietly, locking it behind them once they are both inside.

"Bet you thought I wasn't coming," Eric murmurs, shrugging off his jacket. Tris does the same. It is warmer in the apartment.

"What makes you say that?"

He replies with a smirk. And then crosses to the kitchen. Tris notices that he is taking two glasses out again. Time for a change.

"I'll have that drink you were drinking last time," she says.

Eric turns slowly, raising an eyebrow, "Wine? A bit of an upgrade from water, don't you think?"

"I want to try it,"

"How about pineapple juice first?" His voice is mocking. He even laughs as he talks. So his mood is back. Why was he all depressed ten minutes ago?

"Wine, please," Tris sits down on the couch, like last time. She doesn't bother looking around now. She knows her surroundings, and something tells her that nothing much has changed. It gives her more time to watch Eric. The way his muscles flex in his arms as he lifts the heavy bottle of wine. The way he licks off a drop of red from his finger when he uncorks the bottle. All those things are a pleasure to Tris. A pleasure she is not going to start denying.

He comes back with two glasses. She notices that her glass has less wine in it compared to him. His glass is full up. In hers, the red liquid barely covers the bottom. She raises her brow.

"Have a taster first," Eric smirks, clinking their glasses together. The noise is ridiculously loud. Tris flinches slightly, "To… not being factionless."

Tris takes a sip of her drink while Eric has two big gulps. His glass is already half empty.

She twists her face at the new taste, not knowing whether her taste buds will reject it or accept it. Eric watches her carefully, letting an amusing grin cross his face. She swallows the drink. It burns on its way down to her stomach, sparking small stars of pleasure. It feels good once it is past her mouth. But she would never drink his for pleasure.

"Hang on, this is missing something," Eric says, jumping up from his seat and leaving the room. Tris watches the glass of wine he left on the coffee table. If she looks carefully at it, the liquid is actually transparent. Strange. She always thought wine was a cloudy red.

There is a clatter from the bedroom. Tris sits up slightly, wondering if she should help him out, but before she can, he comes back with a handful of candles and a small box of matches. She laughs softly at the sight.

"Are we going to melt wax?"

Eric turns his head to smile at her, "No, I'm lighting the candles," and he does. He places the creamy sticks all over the living room. His hands are of Amity. Only Amity can handle small objects so carefully, and make art out of them in the end. But he is Dauntless. Tris rolls her eyes at her ludicrous thoughts. It's the wine.

Once he is finished, he returns to his seat, keeping his distance from the newly crowned Dauntless. Tris' urges start to kick in again, and she moves closer to him, making sure that their knees touch.

The room has always been dull, even with the lights on. But the candles Eric lit have brought a new glow to the atmosphere. And not only the visible kind of glow. Something internal as well. She allows her eyes to dart from candle to candle. They don't have a dish underneath them. The wax will be a pain to clear up later.

"There you go," Eric sighs, drinking his wine, "Celebratory air."

Tris giggles at his remark, making him smile wider. As always, his smile doesn't last. He tugs the corners of his lips downwards.

She watches him for a moment, thinking of something to say. _He needs to know about my simulation. He will be happy to hear that he is not in it._ She puts her empty glass down on the table before leaning against the back of the couch.

"I don't think," she takes a deep breath, "I don't think you are in my fear landscape anymore."

His eyebrow twitches, sending one of his piercings upwards. But that's all. That's his reaction, "Really? How is that?"

Tris forms coherent sentences in her head, but when she speaks, they come out as a load of gabble, "I don't think… I mean… my fear is gone. If it's not in my fear landscape," she hopes he gets the hint. As usual, she is disappointed.

"You don't understand this at all," he puts his glass down next to hers, leaning back and draping an arm over her shoulders, "Just because it's no longer present in your fear landscape, doesn't mean you are not afraid."

Tris frowns slightly, confusion washing over her. Before she has the chance to speak, he continues.

"You don't want to be afraid of it. And the only way to believe you are not afraid, is to lie to yourself. The brain picks up on that obviously. You are fooling yourself so much that your conscience starts considering that the fear doesn't exist in your mind anymore. And it wipes it clean. But deep down," he points to her heart, "You are still afraid. No matter how much you lie to yourself."

"I would know if I was afraid, Eric," her heart starts pounding at his touch. He flattens his hand and presses down on where her heart should be, a devious smirk on his lips.

"So there is no reason for your heart beating like crazy?"

"Maybe it's just something else." And then they kiss.

His grey eyes have sucked her in so much that she is still wondering who it was that made the first move. Her brain is fuzzy. She can't remember.

Eric wastes no time with removing her shirt. She gasps relentlessly, thinking that maybe if she went back in time, she would fold her arms so that he couldn't remove the fabric. But why? She has already been in this situation before. He has already seen her like this.

He grips her thighs and lifts her up, planting her small body on his lap. He forces her to straddle him, their lips still moulded together. Tris starts questioning why she isn't dead. At the pace her heart is beating right now, a cardiac arrest is inevitable. However, she doesn't feel pain. It's all in her head.

Eric breaks away with a groan, gluing his eyes to her stomach. They trail slowly up her body, taking in every inch of her. In a split second, all of her insecurities vanish. They are replaced by dignity, narcissism and self-respect. Three things Tris thought she would never feel. She is not an Abnegation girl anymore.

When his eyes meet hers, they turn cloudy. The darkness engulfs all sympathy he has had left in his orbs (if any), and illuminates his darker side. The darker shade of dark. So dark that Tris begins to get lost in them.

Eric tears his hands away from her skin and places them on the couch. She suddenly feels cold. But then she realizes what he is doing. He is putting her in charge. She has learned this in school, way back before Dauntless. This is how you overcome fears. If nobody else can convince you to stop being afraid, you have to do it yourself.

He closes his eyes, fingers twitching impatiently. This is hell for him. Never in a million years would he have imagined that he would be forcing himself away from a woman. Normally, he attacks her like a predator. But Tris is different. He is not going to risk losing her by being irrational.

"What do I do?" Tris asks, her voice full of panic. She stares at his shirt, desperately wanting to get rid of it. But how is she going to do that by herself? He was right. She is still afraid.

"You can put your hands on me for a start," Eric smirks.

It is then when she realizes that her hands have been hovering in the air, like the hands of an artist about to sculpt, totally uninspired and hesitant to start.

When she doesn't make a move, Eric grips the collar of his shirt and pulls it upwards, revealing his stomach then his six pack then his chest and then his face. It is exactly as she remembered it: All buff from years of fighting.

Tris forces her hands onto his chest, her breath hitching at the feel of his chest hair. Eric watches her in amazement. What is he amazed about? Her stupidity? Her lack of common sense?

She trails her fingers down his body, candle light flickering off his skin. He feels so powerful under her fingertips. She is reluctant to press down, knowing that his muscles will feel like rock.

Only knowing how to do one thing, Tris leans down and presses her lips against his. He gladly accepts it. The cold air starts seeping into the room, creating goose bumps on Tris' skin. Thankfully, Eric smooths them out with his warm hands, pressing their bodies together in the process. She gasps loudly at the contact, wrapping her arms around his neck. Their chests graze against each other, Eric feeling the soft material of her bra skimming his nipples. He groans into her mouth, prying it open with his tongue.

She tastes the wine on his lips, the only place where it tastes delicious. Her mind goes off in a tangent. The atmosphere changes dramatically. And soon enough, his hand finds the cup of her bra.

Tris doesn't pull away from the kiss. Somehow, it is the only thing keeping her from running away. She kisses him harder, chewing on his bottom lip as his fingers worm past the wire, where he can feel the base of her breast.

A nervous giggle raptures through her. Eric leans back slightly, looking into her eyes for permission. She nods quickly, not knowing what it is that he was asking for. The answer will always be yes.

She holds her breath when his hands reach around her back. She knows what's coming. She stays as still as a statue, watching him with wide eyes. His shoulders flex, tattoos swimming around his skin.

Suddenly, the pressure around her body is gone. Her bra is unclasped. She looks into his eyes, searching for some sort of hesitation. He is not her. He is not afraid. He has done this thousands of times. The thought makes her queasy.

Eric's fingers brush up to her shoulders. They grasp the straps of her bra, helping them run down her arms until her bra is completely discarded. Automatically, she presses herself against him. Maybe he will think this is sexy. Maybe he doesn't need to see all of her to be turned on.

However, he places a firm hold on her forearms and pushes her back slowly. She can never be stronger than he is, so she squeezes her eyes shut and waits. Waits for him to be over and done with. Whatever it is he is searching for, he won't find it. Why does he deem it necessary to stare at her boobs anyway?

She feels gentle tapping under her chin, "Tris," he whispers, demanding her attention. She opens her eyes and looks down at him, watching his jaw clench and unclench. His hands have moved to rest on her ribcage. And his chin is resting on her collarbone, his eyes burning into her own, "I want you to look at me-"

She cuts him off nervously, "What? Why? Why do I need to-? Can I just-? I want-… I don't know how to-"

"Shh," Eric soothes, feeling her body tremble. That is when she feels it too. She is a nervous wreck. What the hell is wrong with her? "I need you to lay down."

"Lay down? What? Why-"

"Tris, calm the fuck down," he chuckles darkly, unable to hide his amusement any longer, "Just lay down."

She complies, holding his chest closer to hers so that she knows for sure that he won't be able to see anything. He notices how desperately she is trying to hide her body, and goes along by her rules. For now.

Once she is on her back and he is hovering on top of her, he reaches for her wrists, forcing them to stay above her head. Tris grasps the fabric of the couch, digging her fingers into the material. She knows that this won't last for long. Once he starts to do something, her hands will fly back to her chest, and he will be put off so quickly that she will have whiplash. Nothing is more un-sexy that an insecure girl.

"Keep your hands there. Do you understand?"

She nods. But she doesn't understand. Her ears have started ringing again. How can she follow his commands when she can't hear him?

He starts kissing down her neck, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. She spasms slightly, making him chuckle against her skin.

Her hands start releasing the fabric of the sofa when his lips travel further south. He captures some of the skin on her collarbone with his teeth, evicting a small hiss from her mouth. All she needs to do is keep her hands above her head. It's not hard.

How does he have the patience for this?

He plants wet kisses down her chest, glancing up at her now and then. She throws her head back, his lips driving her insane. She wants this badly. But there are so many obstacles in her way.

All of a sudden, his teeth clamp around her nipple, making her moan. The sound came from nowhere. It even took Eric by surprise. But that could be something else. It could be the fact that her hands have come down to grip his hair. He glares at her, gripping her wrists and pinning them back where they should be. And the pleasure is gone before it even began.

"What did I just say?"

Tris stares at him, not knowing that she is expected to answer. It seems like a rhetorical question. But he continues glaring at her. And she needs to say something.

"To keep my hands behind my head,"

"Good girl," he purrs, "And you didn't do that, did you?"

She shakes her head slowly, her teeth digging into her lip.

"Do that again," he says, "And I will fuck you so hard that you won't stand for a week."

Tris gulps quietly, slowly becoming aware of the growing tent in his pants. She lifts her hips to try and feel it, but Eric pulls away. His mouth finds her nipple again, starting out gentler this time. His lips envelope it, sucking softly. She moans breathlessly, finding it hard to keep her hands where they should be. But she remembers his warning. And suddenly she has no trouble obeying his orders.

He runs his hand up to her breast, kneading at it as his mouth moves on to the other nipple. He tugs at it, listening to Tris' gasps from the other end of the couch. He smiles against her skin.

After making sure she is comfortable with what he is doing, he start trailing kisses down her stomach, stopping at her belly button. That's when he takes her hands and lowers them for her. Tris fights off her blush, internally thanking him for her free will.

Eric starts to pull down her trousers, not tearing his eyes off of hers. She continues watching his every move, desperately trying to slow down her heart rate. And when he tosses her trousers over his shoulder, it seems completely impossible.

"Stay right there," he whispers against her thigh before standing up and walking away from sight in his pants. Tris releases a long breath she has been holding in. She can't believe this is happening. And to think that two weeks ago she wanted to be at that banquet, celebrating the ending of initiation. Even though she is terrified, she wouldn't be anywhere else than here. With him.

He comes back with a crease between his eyebrows, holding a tube of what looks like some sort of cream, a square of foil and a massive blanket over his shoulder. The tube falls from his hand and onto the coffee table. The blanket is flung over the back of the couch, sending a breeze past Tris' skin. She sees the little piece of foil landing next to her face. She knows what that is. It's a condom. Fuck.

Eric presses his knee onto the couch, making it sag at the edge. Tris looks up at him as he works on his buttoned trousers, snapping the fly open with one quick motion.

By this point, her head is spinning so fast that she hadn't noticed how he threw his trousers away and joined her on the couch.

He notices her paralysed body and smiles knowingly, resting a hand on her stomach, "Do you want to go on top, like you did earlier?"

Her vision starts to blur, "I don't think I can."

Eric chuckles darkly, reaching down and freeing his throbbing member from his boxers. If she was lying where Eric is now, she would have fallen off the couch. She has never seen a penis before- only in textbooks in school. This is just too surreal. It looks… big. So big. Tris widens her eyes and looks up at him, seeing his eyes go even darker.

He looks like he is about to say something, but he doesn't. His lips meet hers again. She kisses him more confidently than she did when she was out of breath. He kisses her more eagerly than he did the first time. She feels him grab her hand and send it down south until her fingers touch his hard cock.

She gasps and jerks away slightly, but he makes her fingers curl around it and in an instant her curiosity takes over. She just wants more.

"It's okay," he whispers against her lips. Heat starts to cover her face and neck and shoulders and chest. And then it washes through her body until it reaches her core. She is not cold anymore. She feels like she is on fire.

Eric guides her hand up and down his manhood, tugging on her bottom lip. Tris gets the hang of it quickly and allows him to leave her hand. She can do this on her own. There really isn't much to it. And he seems to be getting a lot of pleasure from it.

She runs her thumb across the tip of his penis, hearing a low groan surface at the back of his throat. At least she is doing something right.

Her skin tingles when his hands wrap around her tiny body. He presses her closer. She barely notices how her panties peel off with the help of his fingers.

The candles cast a shimmer of light along Eric's glistening dick. It only seems bigger like this. Tris thought she would be freaking out. But this is the least terrifying part of her intimate encounter. And she doesn't know why.

Eric picks up the condom, tearing the package open with his teeth like an animal. He slides it onto his member, smirking as Tris leans closer to watch, "Alright," he sighs once it's on. Then he picks up the tube Tris was so intrigued about.

"What's that?" she asks.

Eric unscrews the cap and squirts some transparent gel into the palm of his hand. He rubs his hands together and reaches down to his member, coating it in the gel slowly, "Lubricant."

"And whose pleasure is it for?"

Eric grins before replying, "Yours."

Tris' skin starts glowing when perspiration becomes unavoidable. The apartment is warm. The candles heat things up. And the super intimate situation makes things even hotter.

Eric wedges himself between her legs, scooping her head into his arm in the process. She gives him a slight smile when he positions himself, "It's going to hurt."

"I know."

"I'm not slowing down."

"I know."

"Okay," he breathes, crashing his lips against hers one more time. She starts kissing him back eagerly, unable to control herself any longer. Has he been wanting to do this as much as her?

Suddenly, an agonizing pain tears through her, bringing tears to her eyes, "Ow!" A nervous chuckle ripples through her as she pulls away from the kiss.

"Oh, fuck, Tris," he growls against her face. She feels his hand on the back of her thigh, forcing her leg to press against her stomach.

He was right. When he said that he won't slow down. He doesn't slow down. He plunges himself into her, deeper every time, ignoring her pained cries. Although, her pain is starting to fade away.

He slams his fist next to her head, holding himself at an arm's length. Unfortunately for Tris, he can see everything. From the way her face wrinkles at every stroke, to the way her chest heaves up and down, short of breath.

Soon, all of the agony vanishes from her senses, leaving her vulnerable to the pleasure that is about to explode over and over again in her lower regions.

"Ah!" she cries out, catching Eric's attention. He grips her chin between his big fingers, forcing her to look into his eyes.

"I knew you'd like that," he whispers. One of the candles on the coffee table starts flickering like crazy. It flickers so badly that for a moment, it looks like it is about to go out completely.

"Eric," Tris moans, running her hands up and over his broad shoulders. The lubricant he applied earlier makes him move in and out of her with ease. Tris understands that now. She wouldn't have thought of the idea herself.

He grunts loudly, leaning down in search for something to bite. Anything. He moves Tris' face so that she can see him, and leans down, capturing her small chin in his mouth. Tris laughs raucously, the sensation both hysterical and pleasurable at the same time.

His member twitches inside her slightly, getting ready to release what has been building up in there for so long. But he holds on urgently, releasing Tris' face and moving his hand to pinch at her opening instead.

Tris groans, throwing her head back, feeling Eric's powerful wrist behind her. All the doubts she had about him clear away from her brain. In the moment she forgets that he is working with Jeanine. She forgets that he hung Christina above the chasm when she lost her first fight. She forgets about the time when he completely ignored her complaints about Peter stabbing Edward.

She accepts him for all that he is, and all he will be. And she hopes that he accepts her. Even though she is kind of a Stiff.

"Tris, come on," he moans near her ear, still rubbing circles an inch away from where he continues to plough her.

"I-I can't… Oh my God," Tris cries out, feeling a brand new wave of pleasure rushing through her. She has never felt this before. It is too good to be true. Is this supposed to be happening? Is this normal?

"Yes," Eric reads her mind, gritting his teeth, "Come for me, baby."

She shrieks once the biggest explosion happens deep inside her. It causes her legs to shake, and her mind go fuzzy. She bites down on his shoulder, not even caring if blood would be drawn. No wonder everyone in Dauntless loves sex. It's fucking amazing.

After a few more thrusts, Eric stills inside her, groaning her name. Tris clenches around him one more time, finding his lips in the dark. She can't open her eyes. She is too overwhelmed. She has his heavy breathing to guide her way. She has his loud heartbeat, pumping away against her chest. She doesn't need to see anything.

They lay tangled up in each other for the last time. His hands are in her hair, her head on his chest, breathing in the earth and musk and now sweat. Eric has covered them in the blanket, just in case the cold starts creeping up on them.

He stares at the ceiling, a wave of nausea coming over him. Tris is fast asleep. And he isn't. How can he sleep? He is a monster. He is helping Jeanine make something terrible possible. And Tris doesn't even know half of it.

He runs his hand up and down her back, listening to her soft breathing. Then he whispers, "You don't have to forgive me. I deserve this."

 **Don't be confused. We all know what he does next. Review and tell me what you think :)**


	19. The Inevitable Betrayal

**Quite the juxtaposition to the super long chapter before, huh?**

 **Nevertheless, enjoy :)**

It is 10pm. Tris was woken up by the grumpy Eric fifteen minutes ago. He kept huffing and puffing as he tugged her shirt over her head, mumbling something incoherent. She smiled sleepily, kind of hoping that they were going to get to spend the night together. On the couch. With only the candles to keep them company.

But apparently he was too busy for that. He needed to get back to the Pit. And he needed her to attend as well.

"We're already late," Eric hissed, forcing her arms through the holes in her shirt. Tris yawned, pushing them through lazily.

"Why can't I wait here for youuuuu-"

"Tris, don't start," he said.

His face said it all. He was not to be messed with. He had a goal and no barriers could be put in his way. And if there were barriers, he would knock them over. He was going to drag her all the way to the Pit whether she was half asleep or not.

And she stands there now. Within the stampede of other Dauntless. Their shouts and yells have woken her up now. Her eyes are alert. She runs a hand through her just-fucked hair, trying to blend into the crowd.

Christina and Will look like they are practising some dance moves for the finale of WHATEVER. And WHATEVER would be the perfect competition name is it even existed. They swings their arms around, accidentally bumping into other people, who glare. And then Christina ends up yelling.

She looks like she got Will drunk too. Leave it to the guy to be responsible.

"Alright, listen up," Eric yells down at everyone. Tris looks up and gasps when she sees him on a ledge about six feet away from the ground. His face is serious. What is going on? His knuckles turn white as the railing in front of him is gripped, "Before you leave tonight, I want you all in four lines! Everyone gets a tracking device. Don't ask questions, it's just a precaution."

The silence which was made for the leader with the big voice to fill it disappears as soon as Eric steps off the ledge. Everyone starts talking again. In the distance, Drew and Molly laugh. Drew laughs so hard that he needs to clutch his stomach. Will and Christina resume their dancing competition practice. And all of that happens while everyone absent-mindedly makes four neat lines. Each one accompanied by an older Dauntless member with a syringe gun. And an orange liquid splashing around inside it.

Tris touches her neck as she watches the first four member getting injected. Afterwards, they walk away casually. Standing near a wall to wait for their friends.

She steps away from the crowd, suddenly wide awake. This is what Four has warned her about. This is why he has showed her the orange serum early in the morning, when the carts have been loaded into the building. _It's supposed to make you susceptible to suggestion._

"Oh, my God," she whispers, her hand never leaving her neck. _With as many as they have, they could create an army._

And Eric is a part of this. He is the one who gave the announcement. He is the one who is working for Jeanine. And Jeanine is working with Erudite. And the Erudite are the ones who provide the serums.

She gasps when her back hits a tall frame. She turns around, half-expecting it to be Four. But it's Eric. For a moment, her heart normalizes its speed, but then she starts panicking again. She can't trust him. She was right all along.

"You should be first in line," he murmurs, that stupid smirk on his face.

"What are you talking about?"

"-but I'll make it easy for you-"

"Eric, why are you- Ah!"

A sharp sting erupts from the side of her neck, flowing down her body. She thinks that she might collapse from the pain. But it stops all at once. And she didn't even have the time to double over and accept it.

She returns her eyes back to his, not understanding his logic. Why did he act so preoccupied in spending time with her? It makes no sense. He had a very important job to do. Surely, being with her would have made things more difficult for him. He toyed with her feelings up to this point. Until he was no longer her responsibility. He can walk away now, forgetting Tris Prior ever existed. Because once that serum kicks in, her mind would be clear of her identity. And she would be susceptible to whoever it is that is controlling her. And she would no longer know him. And he would no longer worry about her knowing him. Because if she did know him, she would feel betrayal. But how can a robot feel betrayed? Eric knew what he was doing.

Perhaps he just wanted sex. Out of a skinny Abnegation girl. But that doesn't make any sense either.

"It's best for you to spend the night in your dormitory," he says, oblivious to the tears that are welling up in her eyes. Well, maybe not oblivious. Maybe he chooses not to notice. Like he chose to make her a part of this experiment.

Something unreadable flashes behind his eyes. He doesn't look at her anymore. He looks past her.

"I'll see you soon."

Tris watches him walk away, his hands empty. He may not have been the one to inject her, but there is absolutely no innocence in those hands. The hands that caressed her skin just hours before. And now the thought of those hands makes her want to vomit.

He has chosen to betray her, to work with Jeanine, to create an army of Dauntless for whatever reasons there may be. But he was just following orders.

Tris allows the last tear to run down her chin as his cold eyes flash through her memory.

Never again.


	20. Attack On Abnegation part 1

**Tah-da! Chapter 20 is here. Phew xD**

 **As you may have noticed, the story is reaching the end of Divergent slowly. You are probably thinking that it will be over soon but nah. Nahnahnah. I will carry this on into Insurgent. So there are still plenty of updates to look forward to.**

The creaking of the mattresses wakes her up. Actually, she was never asleep. Her body was only paralysed, memories of last night swarming inside her. After hoping to cry herself to sleep, Tris realized something astounding. She was acting like Al. She rolled her eyes, anger boiling deep within her on their first night at Dauntless. Al couldn't keep quiet. He was a coward for crying. Everybody was afraid. And only Al was showing it.

But now she was in the same place as he was before. Crying. Probably aggravating somebody else in the dormitory. When did she become so weak?

Her head feels heavy with mucus and the swelling of her eyes makes her want to stay in bed. She sees that the door across the room is open, bringing early morning sunlight inside. Some of the beds are empty. Somebody has left.

She sits up. Movement is registered in her peripheral vision and she turns her head to look: Will is tying the laces on his boots, his head droopy like he is still asleep. His hands are not his hands. But they are his hands. Same with Al. He is tying his shoe laces like is forced to do it. And his body does not belong to him any more.

Tris swings her legs over the edge of the bed, noticing how Christina does the same, "Hey what's…" she trails off, suddenly silenced by her friend's blank stare.

Her eyes are dead. Her face is vacant. She tilts her head to the side, like a clueless dog, except that a clueless dog would not have a hint of anger on its face. Christina does.

Tris widens her eyes, getting off the bed and walking over to her boots slowly. She feels Christina's eyes burning into the back of her head throughout her short journey. Something is wrong.

When Tris turns back around, she sees everybody walking out of the door. Slowly. Artificially.

"Oh, my God," she whispers, laying a hand on her neck. The transmitters in the serum have been activated. They have done it. They have created an army. But Tris is awake. _Divergent._

In a hurry, she shrugs on her jacket and shoves her feet into her boots, following her friends to do the one thing she is good at doing. Blending in.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

There seems to be an order to the way the brainwashed soldiers form lines. Tris keeps as still as she can, glancing at an odd person from time to time. The line of people she is in seems to be in height order. But if that is the case, she officially gave herself away. There are people on either side of her. Blank faces. Staring at the back of someone else's head.

They march all the way to the Pit where dozens of tables line the walls. Tris furrows her eyebrows slightly at the new setting. But then she realizes that the tables are for guns. Big, heavy guns. Unlike the ones they used to score points in initiation.

Where is Four? Was he brainwashed too? Is he one of the robots? Is there nobody she can stick to right now? All she needs to do if find out what is going on. Where are they going with those guns?

She keeps her eyes on Christina's jet black hair, refusing to break character. Even when Eric comes into view.

She had kind of expected it. An army of Dauntless, guns at the ready, the corrupt leader at the front of the Pit. It all makes sense. In fact, Tris would have been confused if he wasn't there. She takes a deep breath, biting the inside of her cheek. _Don't notice me. Don't notice me._

"They can see and hear us," Max grumbles, "They just don't process it the same way."

Tris watches as he and Eric dawdle in the centre of the soldiers that surround them. They seem so relaxed. How can they be so relaxed? She finds the tiniest smile when a thought crosses her mind. Imagine if everybody just woke up. Or better yet, if they were programmed to attack Eric and Max. That would be a turn of tables. But the chances of that happening are less than 0.01%, as Will would say.

She marches closer and closer to the man she is so desperate to avoid. Step by step by step her throat tightens, suffocating her completely. Soon, she finds that she is not breathing at all. But at least that keeps her face straight.

Once she gets to the table of weapons, her hands lock on one of the biggest guns. The gun is bigger than her. She has trouble holding it properly. Her back begins to ache at the weight of it. But then she realizes that everybody has the same weapon. It's the nerves. She has to compose herself.

"Commands come in through the transmitter," Max says, folding his arms. Tris doesn't dare to breathe. He is right next to her. Max stops talking immediately, as if sensing the tension only her and Eric are able to feel. He backs away, allowing the reckless leader to step closer to her. She can only see his face out of the corner of her eye, but that is enough for her. She can tell that he is not smiling.

If he hadn't betrayed her less than 24 hours ago, they would be on different terms. He would reach out and brush a strand of hair behind her ear. Or lean in, shake her shoulders and demand for her to be out of the simulation.

"You know," Max breathes, "We can wake her up. Take her up to the control room and trigger a certain-"

"No," Eric snaps, keeping his eyes on her face. She nearly passes out from the lack of oxygen, "She wouldn't co-operate. It would ruin the whole mission."

"Okay," and then they walk past her. She takes a long breath, making sure to keep her shoulders level. When she blinks, her vision blurs. There were tears prickling at her eyes this whole time. But if she didn't notice, he didn't notice.

Wouldn't co-operate? That's an understatement.

Suddenly, a man walks out of the organized line. He has tattoos all over his face. His hair is bright red. And he is not in the simulation. But he is Dauntless. Tris feels puzzled for just a moment, and then it all becomes clear when he nudges one of his friends, "Hey, what are we doing?" he hovers in the middle, his eyes wide with perplexity, "What's going on?" he asks another robot.

Tris resists the urge to roll her eyes. How can he be this stupid? He will get himself killed.

"Divergent," Max slurs behind her, at which point Tris starts to panic again. She hears the click of a gun. That deadly click. The click that sucks all the air out of the room, suffocating everyone and everything.

Eric walks forward until he is in the range of Tris' peripheral vision. As crazy as it sounds, she would rather not see him that have him right there in front of her. Most of the time, you want it the other way.

He takes out a pistol from the back of his pocket, shaking it slightly before lifting it up, "Hey!" that gets the man's attention, "Everything's fine. There's nothing to worry about," and that gets him killed. The loud bang of a bullet leaving its chamber makes Tris jump slightly. The first time she has seen somebody murdered in cold blood. And the murderer was Eric.

Tris forces herself to move when Christina starts walking again. She hugs the gun to her chest, allowing herself the luxury of moving her head around to get a better look at things. No authority is around anymore. They have walked out of the Pit. So she has to use the opportunity.

She tries not to trip over the uneven grounds in the dark corridor. That is the last thing that she needs right now. Hopefully there will be a more open space soon. So that she can cough without anybody hearing her. And slump her shoulders with nobody to see from behind. And look up at the sky with no Max or Eric to see from the distance.

They end up outside, all marching at the same pace and with the same certainty. The sky is quite grey today. _Please don't rain._

The warm summer breeze calms Tris slightly, allowing her to take a few deep breaths to compose herself. Her heart is still racing from the murder she has witnessed. But she has a feeling that wasn't the last murder she is to witness. Even though it was her first. She marches and marches until all at once, the marching stops. A train pulls up on her left. So close, that the metal grazes the fabric of her jacket. It takes her all of her willpower not to flinch.

Then the doors slide open. And everyone starts piling in.

For a long time the ringing in her ears deafens her. Her head spins when reality hits her. Eric is a murderer. And he is working for Jeanine. And she is obviously a murderer too. And they want Divergents dead. And Tris has a gun. And she needs to use it. And she doesn't know where they are going. What if it's a war zone? What if they have to kill other Divergents in the city? No. No. Nonono.

She snaps back to where she is. In a train. Packed with zombies. She has to do something. There is no way anybody is going to make her kill.

She looks ahead, furrowing her eyebrows when a familiar tattoo catches her eye. It's a neck tattoo. She still has no idea what the tattoo is of, but none of that matters any more. She knows who it belongs to. It's Four. He is among the zombies. She needs to get to him. Just to make sure…

And she does. After what felt like a million slow steps and a billion shoulder bumps, she gets to him. She is at his side. Staring into the distance. When they get off the train, she will have to figure this out.

A warm hand curls around her own. It squeezes hard enough for her to understand the message. She used to be confused about the signals Tobias sent her. Through eye contact. Through short nods. But now she understands.

As they intertwine their fingers, she understands. They will figure this out together.

 **Please drop a comment in the reviews :)**


	21. Attack On Abnegation part 2

**This chapter follows the movie quite closely, but obviously I made some adjustments. Some moments were altered. It's not all that predictable. Enjoy :)**

The train screeches to a stop. It is so unusual for trains to stop in this city. Normally, the passengers always have to jump. But obviously robotic Dauntless members would fall on their face if they tried to do anything like that. Not a good look.

Tris glances at Four before following the crowd off the train. He is as tense as ever. But letting Tris on his biggest secret has calmed him slightly. He is Divergent. Just like her. How did she not see this coming? Of course, she was too preoccupied in spending time with stupid Eric. And look how that turned out.

They shuffle their feet in the gravel, forcing one foot in front of the other. Tris walks past the tall buildings, her heart in her throat, her stomach flipping over. She used to catch the bus to school here. Some of her first memories have originated here. Near her house. Near Abnegation.

In unison, Tris and Tobias look at the grey blocks a few yards away from them. And then they look at each other. He is thinking exactly what she is, except he probably might know a bit more. An attack on Abnegation? What would drive Erudite to create an army and send them fighting with the most innocent people in the city? But they wouldn't be fighting. They would only be attacking.

All too soon, they reach the first street in the Abnegation sector. Some soldiers stop at the entrance, some walk around a corner as if waiting for something there. Tris glances at Four- unsure- not knowing what they would have been programmed to do. The easiest thing right now would be to stick to the line they are in and follow them deeper and deeper into the village.

She sees Christina walking off to the right. Why does she feel like this is the last time she will see her?

A scream. Tris turns her head towards it. She sees an Abnegation family being kicked out of their safe haven. Their house. The children are restrained straight away, along with their mother.

"We need to find my parents," Tris says, her voice shaking. She can't even begin to imagine what would happen to her parents here. Her mother is smart. She would try to lead a large group of Abnegation away from here. But that would not be enough. All of these families and children left… forced out into the streets, soldiers raiding their living rooms. What is going on?

There is a commotion further ahead, which seems to get a lot of attention. A man, probably the father in the family, stands right in front of a soldier, demanding answers. As anybody would be doing right now. He demands and demands but the soldier does not reply. She is in a sim. Tris widens her eyes.

It's Tori.

Another soldier walks up to the man (this one seems to be conscious). He pushes the man's shoulder, trying to talk some sense into the guy. But just as he begins to speak, Tori shoots the victim. The Abnegation man falls to the stony pavement. Dead.

Tris' legs fail her, and she halts mid-step, staring at the second death she witnessed today.

"Just keep moving," Tobias whispers to her, pushing her along, "Where's your house?"

She complies, stepping over the man's body, forcing her head to stay up. They have lost their line now. They are on their own, probably looking suspicious as they quicken their pace and head closer and closer to Tris' parent's house.

"Mom! Dad?" she yells once they are in and the door is closed. The living room is empty. It is eerily quiet. Tris knows that they are not there and yet heads up the stairs for another check-up, "Mom!"

Her head darts around, glancing into every room. First her old one, then Caleb's old one and then finally their parent's. Not a single life is present. They have left.

Tris runs back down the stairs, her gun close to her chest. That's when she meets Tobias, half crouched and aiming at the door. He turns his head to look at her, worry crossing his face.

"Where would they have gone?"

"I don't know," she answers honestly. Even after they leave the house and end up outside, his question still echoes in her head. _Where would they have gone? Where would they have gone?_ She repeats it to herself under her breath, over and over again until the question doesn't sound like it was formed by individual English words.

 _Where would they have gone?_ Her mind is blank. They never used to go anywhere. Abnegation is their home. There is nowhere to go. This isn't Dauntless. There are no events like Ferris-wheel-climbing to go to.

 _If I was mom, where would I go?_ Even after rephrasing the question, she arrives at the same answer. _I don't know. I honestly don't have a clue._

Four finds a line of people they can follow and starts following it like a natural. Tris shadows him. She stares at his back, trying to get as close to him as possible. She can't see what's in front. She can only see his back. And when he abruptly stops, she has no choice but to do the same. Her eyes flicker back to dead. Back to zombie mode. And she stares.

A familiar figure crosses over to her, his hand a ghost on her shoulder. It takes her a moment to allow the feeling to sink in. And when it does, she realizes who is standing beside her. No one other than Eric. And Max is hovering around. Fucking Max. Why is he always there?

She slides her finger over the trigger on her gun.

"Legendary Four," he murmurs, walking back over to stand in front of Tobias. Tris breathes a sigh of relief. As long as he doesn't look at her, she should have no problem being in character, "A mindless drone. You were first in your class, now you're…. nothing."

There is an awkward silence whilst Eric stares into Four's "dead" eyes. He sighs. And then he starts walking again. But then he stops. Right next to her. She tenses up again, forcing herself not to blink too rapidly.

"Not really sure why they programmed her to follow you," he continues speaking, reaching out to touch Tris' cheek. She flinches slightly. Stupid. Stupid move.

Eric steps back to look at Four, an expectant silence falling before him.

"What?" Max spits, folding his arms. Eric glances back at Tris, blinking in astonishment. Does he know? Why is he looking at her like that? He leans in slightly, staring deeply into her eyes. And all of a sudden, it's just too painful. She starts tearing up, "Think he might be…?"

"There's one way to find out," Eric answers, raising his loaded gun to the back of Four's head, "Say goodbye, asshole-"

"Goodbye," Tris speaks, raising her weapon to Eric.

"Move and you die," Four says, raising his gun to Max's head as he raises his to Tris'.

Eric doesn't seem that surprised. He just looks at her and smiles. And then a half-hearted laugh escapes his mouth. Max on the other hand, is shocked.

"The Stiff?" he turns to look at Four, his glare returning, "Two Stiffs. Two dead Stiffs."

"You can't let a single Divergent slip though," Max huffs, clenching his hand tightly around his weapon, "This is what happens."

"She's not going to shoot me," Eric confirms, lifting his head up. Why is he so confident? He betrayed her. It doesn't matter how close they used to be. They are not that close anymore. And once again, he insulted her. Like he always had. She was so blind.

"I think you might be overestimating my character," Tris replies, squinting as she prepares to shoot.

What he does next takes her aback. He turns around so fast that she barely has the chance to respond. He whacks the gun out of her hand, causing the heavy magazine to bruise her wrist immediately. Tris cries out in pain, diving down to retrieve her weapon. As she does, a loud bang is heard from Four's gun. And then a yell from Eric. He shot him.

She turns to look, tucking her weapon under her arm again. Tobias hits Max in the jaw with his gun. And then he turns to look at her, "Run!"

So she does. While Eric writhes around on the ground in agony. Her heart skips a beat, and she has to turn around. To make sure he is okay. There is blood seeping out of a wound in his leg. It's only his leg. He will be fine.

A herd of Dauntless robots run towards them, their guns at the ready. But Four shoots each of them in the chest, never missing his targets. Tris runs after him, the throbbing pain in her wrist slowly starting to disappear. And as it does, a loud bang is heard from behind her. And then a shot of electricity down her arm.

She winces, falling forward, Tobias catching her before she hits the ground, "Ah!"

"You hit?"

She nods slowly, not quite processing what just happened. She was shot. How could she have been so stupid? Why didn't she look behind her?

Four's arm tightens around her as her head starts to spin. She has never been shot before. But she remembers thinking that if she was, she would always keep her back straight and never fall to the ground. How naïve she was to think that. If Four wasn't here right now, she would be flat on the floor.

"Drop your weapons," Max commands. And she lets the gun clatter at her feet.


	22. Attack On Abnegation part 3

**Guuuuuuuys, don't know if you've heard but there is not going to be Allegiant Part 1 and Allegiant Part 2. There will be Allegiant and then… wait for it… Ascendant. :O**

 **I've freaked out a lot when I found out because I honestly thought that everybody was leaving the fandom xD I mean, Insurgent had massive changes when it came out and now the directors are thinking 'Ah, we've ruined the second film, let's do that to the whole series'.**

 **But come on. They have not ruined it. It's a name change. And I totally dig it. It got my heart pumping fast, man.**

 **Also, there will be an extension to the series, which will happen in the last movie. Why would they need an extension if the main character dies? That is the only thing I don't get. If they change the ending, I will cry.**

 **But if the ending will be the same and the key scenes will be there, then there is no problem.**

 **Come on… we're getting new scenes in our series. They weren't in the books. Nobody will know what they are. And I am definitely excited.**

 **If that was brand new information, then don't read the story. Let it sink in first xD and after you've screamed (either from joy or frustration), you may read on…**

There are two guards on either side of her. Both grip her arms with so much force, she is certain that underneath her jacket they have gone blue. Her right arm still throbs from where the bullet grazed her. And the amount of force the guy next to her applies does not help. He is conscious. So Tris does not hold back her words, "Watch it!" she tries squirming and wiggling herself free, but she could never be that strong.

Instead, she hangs like a piece of cloth, trying to annoy the guards. But they don't seem annoyed. When she refuses to budge her feet, they simply lift her higher into the air. She hates being restrained.

Four, on the other hand, seems to accept the fact that he has been caught. He holds his hands in front of him, allowing the guards to push him forward. Tris meets his eyes for a second. They are submissive.

She feels the atmosphere change. The air becomes stuffier and warmer. It takes her a second to realize that they are no longer outside. They are in a small room which is filled with paper work and stacks and stack of books. Moreover, there are three people inside. Two of them are men. Tris squints slightly. Dead eyes. What a surprise. And in the middle is a blonde woman.

She takes her time to turn around. And once she does, her eyes do not change in the slightest. She simply smiles.

"Tobias Eaton," her eyes narrow at him, before flickering back to Tris, "And you… Beatrice."

Jeanine puts down a small iPad she was previously cradling in her arms like a baby. One of her guards swipes it off the table immediately and walks out. Towards a car. An Erudite car.

"I thought it was intellect I was sensing in you," she speaks calmly, as if a couple of Divergents cannot possibly get in the way of her master plan. And maybe she is right. Maybe they can't. But Tris isn't here to be a hero. She wants to know what is going on. And where her mother is.

"Maybe you're not as smart as you think you are," Four says, attempting at shrugging the soldiers off his arms.

Jeanine smiles slightly, tilting her head to the side, "You injured my guards," her eyes glue back to Tris'. For some reason, she can't stop observing her. Like she is some kind of experiment, "I hope you know I am not appreciative of two rebellious teenagers going around and shooting my men."

"Why are you attacking all those innocent people?" Tris asks, ignoring her remark.

Jeanine frowns, acting like she doesn't quite understand the question, "Innocent people? Abnegation, if left unchecked, will destroy the faction system. Same can be said for both of you."

She eyes them cautiously, taking a step forward.

"Somebody has to stop you. If they don't, peace will be lost-"

"It's already been lost," Tobias hisses, "You destroyed it."

"Human nature destroyed it," she clarifies cockily, "Those of us with the vision to see that have called upon to protect the rest. We will restore the peace. And this time it will last."

"And what if you're wrong?" Tris asks, starting to feel a little pissed off. Human nature destroyed peace? Who does she think she is, some kind of alien? Does being human not apply to her? Even the way she raises her eyebrow gets her blood boiling.

Jeanine steps forward, leaning in closer to Tobias' face, "Bring him with us," she orders, nodding at one of the guards. Tris realizes now that the guard is Max. He has been standing here this whole time. Her heart spikes up slightly. If he is here, Eric is here. But when she looks around, she doesn't see him. He is probably being treated in an infirmary.

Tris yelps loudly when she feels her wound throbbing again. It's Jeanine. She presses her finger into her muscle, tutting reproachfully, "She's injured," the pain that her touch causes makes her head spin again. It spins until her vision becomes blurry. But just in time, she steps back, "Her results would be unclear. You can get rid of her."

She stares at Jeanine in shock. This is the last thing she needs. She hasn't figured it all out yet. They can't take her away. Away from Tobias. Her eyes meet his and she sees terror in them.

In a split second, he launches himself at Jeanine, his hand trying to find something to pull. Anything. His grip finds her blazer. And he pulls.

Tris groans when they start dragging her out. She watches Tobias, trying to yell at him. Trying to let him know that she is being taken away. But nothing comes out.

They are taking her to her death. How can she possibly make a sound, knowing that this is the end? There won't be any point in yelling. There is no point in anything actually. Four is restrained. Eric is a traitor. Her friends are in a simulation. Nobody can save her now.

She grunts as one of the guards shoves her into the ground. Her knees sting from the impact. The damp grass beneath her soaks up the material of her trousers, probably staining them green. The colour won't be clear on the black, but Tris will know that it's there. Or would know. If she was somewhere else. In a place where her friends are not against her.

She stares at her reflection in a puddle. A strand of hair freed itself from her tight ponytail, battering in the wind. She breathes it in when it tickles past her nose. The last scent. The last memory.

A raucous clap thunders in the air. Tris ducks slightly, a scream on her lips. But she is not gone. Not yet.

She looks around in an awe, astounded to see the Dauntless soldier lying on the floor. His face in the puddle. Another clap. And another.

All three soldiers collapse around her. It takes her a second to realize that they have all been shot.

"Beatrice!"

She turns her head to the voice, widening her eyes at what she sees. It's her mom. She's running towards her. And she has a gun. Why does she have a gun? HOW does she have a gun?

Tris tries to stand up to meet her mother's embrace, but she falls back down, wincing at the pain in her arm. Still, she looks up at her, still not believing what just happened.

Her mother's face is determined. Her hair is no longer in a bun. She is not Abnegation.

"Mom," she whispers, starting to rise to her feet, "Mom!"

"Okay," she sighs, wrapping her arms around Tris' shoulders. At that moment they both feel content. They forget about the deaths and the war and the simulation.

Tris smiles widely when her mother pulls away, yanking a knife out of the dead soldier's pocket and tearing through the ropes which are binding Tris' wrists.

"Okay, we got to run," she informs, forcing herself to pull away from her daughter. Tris does the same. They haven't seen each other in what feels like forever. But now is not the time to be standing in the middle of a battlefield, catching up on the gossip.

"You were Dauntless," Tris smiles, picking up the guards' pistol.

Her mom returns that genetic smile, freezing in time to answer her, "It served me well today."

SHSHSHSHSHSH

The stinging in her arm returns when she raises her gun for the millionth time today. Together, Tris and her mother, have made their way into the non-Abnegation part of the city. They have outran most of the guards. They have crossed a dozen alley ways. And they were on their way to find Andrew Prior. A dad and a husband. It all seemed to make a great plan. They would find him and then they will be safe again. A family. This time, without Caleb.

It hurts her that she has left Four behind. He was snatched away from her. She doesn't know where he is now. And she can't let it go. She will find him afterwards, because he is one of the only people left who cares about her.

There is a pack of Dauntless soldiers, standing as still as statues near a truck. Tris' mother gives her a knowing look. There is no way to get past them. And if they tried, they would be killed. The only way is the hard way.

"Ready?" she asks.

Tris nods, aiming at her first target. Then she shoots.

Her mother does the same, taking out the armed men first. One of them manages to escape. He shouts for the others, either into a radio or into the air. It is pretty loud. That's when more soldiers flood in from behind the women.

"Tris, watch out!" her arm flings around her daughter, pushing her back against a wall. That gives them time to reload. Tris furrows her eyebrows in concentration, clicking the chambers into place. Then she looks up and aims at the nearest black target. Her finger hesitates around the trigger. She knows the soldier. She knows him.

It's Will.

"Will?" she yells towards him, a cold glare being her only response. He shoots at her, hitting the brick wall near her head.

Tris gasps loudly, forcing her back against the wall. It's Will.

She lunges forward again, aiming her gun at his face. Maybe there is a chance he will wake up. Maybe is she yells loud enough. Maybe it is possible.

"Will!" she shouts, gunshots echoing around her, "Will!"

His face stays vacant. There is not even a slight humanly twitch in his eye.

"Will, stop!" she yells again, shrieking when he shoots near her leg. In a panic, she squeezes the trigger, inevitably firing the bullet and hitting him square in the head. He falls to the floor with a great thud.

At this point, she has had enough of holding a gun.

Her mother's soothing words are muffled. She can't hear her. She stares at the body on the ground, refusing to believe that this is real.

It is until her mother shakes her shoulders that she begins to snap back to where she is. Her brain is all fuzzy. The stinging in her arm does not compare to the throbbing pain deep in her gut. She is a murderer. How does that make her better than Eric? It doesn't.

"I killed him," she squeaks helplessly, eyes dry.

"Beatrice,"

"I killed him. I killed him," the more she repeats it, the more aware she becomes. She knows what it's like now.

Her mother pulls her into a hug, stroking the back of her head, desperately trying to bring her peace. But she says nothing. Because no words could calm her now. She is a murderer. She killed him.

"Tris, let's go find your father," Natalie whispers quietly. Tris nods. Sure. Let's do it.

They sprint onwards, sirens blaring in the distance. It only adds to the reality of the warzone. A great shudder runs through her spine.

They look around a corner of a building, not seeing anyone there.

"Cover me-"

"No," Tris interrupts, "I'll go."

She has to do this. She will not put her mother's life at risk. After all, it would only make sense for her to go. If she gets shot, so be it. At least it won't be her mother.

She launches out into the deserted street, looking around for movement. There seems to be nobody around. But when she gets halfway across the road, she hears the roar of a truck. And it's not just any truck. It's a Dauntless truck. She squints slightly, watching the vehicle appearing around the corner. It doesn't take long for the men on it to notice her. They start to yell.

And Tris raises her gun again.

"Tris, go!" her mother yells from behind her, sprinting out of her safe area. One of her arms starts to push Tris further, the other lifting her gun to shoot at the guards. At least two of them fall down. Tris shoots the last one just in time to hear a scream behind her.

She spins around, all the noise blackening her vision.

Her mother is on the ground. Her eyes have rolled back into her head. And a pool of blood appears beneath her grey clothes.

It was a quick death. There wasn't even time for her to exchange a few last words. It happened all too soon. It wasn't fair.

Tris rolled around in the gravel, for a few minutes trying to bring her back to life. But she knew it wasn't possible. Just like Will, she died. Just like Four, she was lost. And there was no bringing her back.

She pushes herself to keep going. Ignoring the mixed emotions and the throbbing in her arm. She runs. Away from all the murderers and the victims. She doesn't know where she is going. She doesn't know where her father is. And she doesn't know this part of the city.

A gate blocks her way in another alley. She screams in frustration, unable to hold back any longer. Tears stream down her face, hot from the anger. And then they stop. But she continues crying. Even when nothing comes out.

Loud footsteps get her heart to spike up again. She leans against the metal gates, not finding the strength to lift her gun in self-defence. It clatters to the floor, bruising her ankle.

Her cheeks sting from the dried tears as she stares at the figure in the alley.

He has his gun clutched in both of his hands. He starts walking up to her gingerly, as if she is a dangerous animal. She notices his limp, reminding her of when Four shot him in the leg earlier.

It's him. It's Eric.


	23. Following Orders

Tris feels her knees shake as he approaches her. First, he does it slowly. And then he practically launches himself into her personal space bubble, lowering his weapon at once.

"Don't come any closer," she warns, her eyes glancing down at her gun on the ground, which she so foolishly dropped earlier on. She makes a small move to pick it up, but his hands nudge hers out of the way.

With his foot, he kicks her gun so that is slides across the gravel and behind him, somewhere she can't possibly grab it from.

Tris presses herself against the brick wall, holding her breath. Waiting for something to happen.

"I followed you," he declares, "Do you know what I had to risk to not be seen by anyone? Do you think it was easy for me to chase you with one of my legs practically dead?!"

She stares at him, the muscles in her face so worn out that she doesn't even bother to make the right facial expression. He's yelling at her? He is actually yelling at her?

"What _you_ had to risk?" she spits as he glances around them in some sort of paranoia frenzy.

His face is immaculate from scratches and bruises. It's no surprise. His hair is still gelled the way it was first thing in the morning. Compared to him, Tris looks like a battered dog: loose strands of hair everywhere; blood pouring out of her arm, causing her to gradually lose consciousness, causing her to look like a drug addict with her eyes barely open. Not to mention the hidden scars only memories can hold. She went through hell. And he is saying that he risked something?

"Don't come any closer!" she raises her voice as he steps forward. Unexpectedly, he jumps away, raising both of his hands.

"Tris, we don't have time for this. I am trying to help you-"

"No, you're not. You want me dead and you came here to kill me-"

"Tris, god dammit-"

"-Like you killed my mom-"

"-I did not kill your mom-"

"-And like you killed that guy at Dauntless-"

"Oh, fuck. Just listen to me-"

"-you are a murderer! Please just don't come any closer, I don't want you here-hic- leave me alone- hic hic-"

"Tris," he soothes, wrapping his arms around her shoulders reluctantly. She was holding it for so long. But now that she is on the verge of death, the tears are flowing wildly. She started hiccupping halfway through her rant.

"Why are-are you doing this?"

"You have to listen to me very carefully, okay?" he mutters into her hair. Tris places her hands on his hips as his tighten around her shoulders. She tries to ignore the throbbing in her arm as his embrace becomes more passionate.

"I don't want to do anything-"

"I said you need to listen carefully-"

"-I'm not going to-"

"-Fuck! Just listen to me!"

He pulls away abruptly, lifting her heavy head to make their eyes lock. Tris sniffs rapidly, wanting her eyes to stop welling up with tears. But they just keep coming. Fresh and hot.

"I'm not here to hurt you, I promise-"

She cuts him off, coldly, "Where have I heard that before?" And then she releases a half-hearted laugh.

Eric narrows his eyes, pushing away the stream of tears gently, desperately wanting to dry her face.

"Tris, if you want to survive you have to listen," she opens her mouth to interrupt, but this time he raises his voice, not allowing that to happen, "I know this doesn't look good right now. I want you to ignore that, okay? Just know that I am on your side,"

"You are _not_ on my side," she replies, her voice nasal from all the crying, "Why are you helping Jeanine kill innocent people?"

"It's my job."

"Bullshit-"

"It's my job," he repeats louder, limping forward, causing her to press up against a wall, "I have no choice, Tris. Do you think I would ever go out and shoot a couple of kids in the head just because I felt like it?"

"Yes," she answers honestly. But in her mind she keeps repeating: _Kids? What kids? I should have asked him about the kids._

"I'm following orders," he whispers huskily, glaring down at her, "Part of being Dauntless is having to follow orders you don't always agree with."

Tris widens her eyes, sniffing as her shoulders shake slightly. That is exactly what Four said to her when they visited his fear landscape. She starts wondering now: Is that what their leader has told them when they were initiates?

"You could just say no," she replies.

"Not in my case," Eric casts his eyes down as he releases Tris' head.

There are a few yells evicting from the streets. It causes Eric to lead her into a nearby alley, even smaller than the one they were stood in before. A few screams are heard in the distance. Those are probably Abnegation that are trying to escape. They won't get too far.

"What are you talking about?" she asks, looking up at his cloudy eyes. They are so close that she can smell his minty breath. She isn't sure if this happened by choice or if it's just the small alley pushing them closer together.

His face scrunches up, as if he tasted something bitter. He is reluctant to reply, but he forces it out, word by word.

"I'm not-…," he sighs, "It's my family."

"Your family?" she places a hand on his tender shoulder, wincing at how he shakes under her palm. The Abnegation within her starts to activate. She presses her head against his chest, thankful for the way he returns her embrace.

"Jeanine needs soldiers," he says, hesitating again, "And most of them have declined her offer before any of this even happened. So…" he holds his breath, looking for the right words, "She has always wanted me. Because she thought I would make a good soldier-"

"And your family?" Tris mumbles, wondering whether to press on for the answers, knowing how painful it is for him to admit the truth.

"There is only my mother and my sister left," he says, pressing his lips against Tris' earlobe.

She ponders this for a moment, quite confused. What does he mean? What is he talking about? His mother and his sister are the only ones left.

When she doesn't reply, he continues, "Do you understand?" he pulls away to look at her, their foreheads touching. She wants to say no… because she doesn't understand. Not really. The way he says it… it's like he wants her to know without him having to say the words. Because the words are too painful for him to say.

Tris shakes her head, feeling awful for being so clueless.

Eric sighs, squeezing his eyes shut, "She killed my dad," he lifts his face up to the sky for a moment, "This is what happens. When you don't follow orders."

She lifts her good arm higher, placing her hand on the side of his face. He looks deeply into her eyes, searching for something that is not pity.

"And the rest of the soldiers…?"

"Most of them are forced into this," he says, "Most of them."

Tris shakes her head, suddenly wanting to be close to him again. She presses her body up against his, feeling angry at Jeanine. At the way this city is falling apart. At the way Eric is bound to some kind of curse that he could easily break.

"Why can't you turn against her? You could outnumber her-"

"No, Tris," he shakes his head, running one on his hands up to her wound, colouring his palm red, "I can't do that."

"Yes, you can. She is weak on her own-"

"I can't, Tris!" fear crosses his eyes, his breath hitching, "There are some things that… you just can't do."

"Because you're afraid?"

He focuses his eyes on hers, not replying. He doesn't even nod. Or shake his head. But Tris knows what the answer is.

The roars of Dauntless engines brings an unnerving touch to the atmosphere. She remembers that they are never alone. And never safe. There is a war inside this city. It could have been going on for years without many people knowing. Family members were killed in compromise for a place in the army. Many disagreed. They disobeyed the rules Erudite has secretly put up. And their families suffered as a consequence.

"You need to promise me something," Eric says, unzipping Tris' jacket. She winces when it falls down her arms, grazing her wound. She leans against the wall in her tank top, watching as he produces a small bandage from his pocket.

She needs to promise him something. An hour ago, she would have sent him to hell. Now, she isn't so sure anymore.

"Tris?"

"Yeah, yeah, what?" she furrows her eyebrows, giving Eric her arm when he gestures for it.

"Make your way to Amity," his hands unravel the white bandage, spinning it around her wound carefully, "Show them the bullet wound," he nods towards it, "This will keep it from throbbing for a while, but you have to show them. And they'll treat it properly."

"I'm not going to Amity," she says, looking down the long alley way, "I need to find Four. They took him somewhere."

"No, forget about him," anger slices through his words, causing him to tighten his grip. She winces.

"What?"

"You need to get to Amity. They will provide shelter. They will look after you, Tris."

"I can't leave him," she replies, noticing how Eric frowns. This isn't the best time to be jealous. She really has to find Four. He has done so much to keep her alive and she has to help him in return.

Eric finishes bandaging her arm and picks up her jacket, helping her to shrug it on. He takes out a pistol from under his waistline, checking for bullets. For a moment she thinks that he will shoot her. But he doesn't. He lifts up her shirt and shoves the end of the gun into her back pocket, securing it.

She shivers at his touch.

"I'm gonna say this one more time," he grumbles, placing a hand on the wall near her head, "You will make your way to Amity. You won't return for _anybody._ Okay? Going back would be a good way to get yourself killed."

"Maybe you didn't hear me," Tris replies, releasing a small chuckle and stepping forward, "I am going to find Four," she looks into his eyes, enjoying the way his pupils dilate, "I don't give a shit about Amity and the way they treat everybody's wounds for free, alright? I need to find him. We will go on from there."

Spending so much time with Eric has benefited and harmed her at the same time. She has learnt his ways. She knows how to stand up to herself. She is skilled in getting her own way. But that has made her even more reckless.

"Are you fucking kidding me," he whispers to himself, turning away to stare at the ground. Tris finds her smile as the coldness of the gun warms up to her skin. She feels the bulge in her back pocket with her hand, wondering if he has put safety on it.

"Come with me-"

"Did you not hear what I said?" he turns around, glaring daggers. She did hear what he said. He can't leave or stand up to Jeanine because of his family. Surely there are ways around that though. Can't they go and take his family as well? And together they would get out of this warzone.

"Eric, don't make me choose," she says, stepping forward, "I owe him a great deal of things. He has saved me so many times, you don't have any idea," he watches her, wrapping his arms around her waist as she talks, "Don't think that I am doing this just to piss you off. He needs me right now. I can't let him down."

"I just want you to be safe," he whispers, tickling her jawbone with his breath.

"I will be. Eric," she meets his lips, which appear to be surprisingly cold at first. But then her heat finds his and they start warming up. He tastes her tongue with his own, deepening the kiss. He has never done this before. He was always so rough and careless. And it took him all of these killings and drama for him to realize that he should be gentle. Not just in kissing. But in everything he does.

"Why can't you for once listen to what I have to say?" he mutters against her lips, pulling away to kiss the bruises along the side of her face.

"I've fallen in love with you," she says, running her hands over his tattooed neck.

"So have I."

She jolts at the sound of gunfire in the distance. Eric keeps a firm hold on her, scanning his eyes over her face. She has changed in some way. He can't see it yet. But she has. She is different.

"You need to get out of here," he declares, unable to keep his fingers off her skin. She smiles slightly, melting into his touch, "I might see you again."

She frowns at his words, leaning up to peck his lips, "Might?"

In contrast to her, he smirks, "No promises."

 **The End.**

 **Jkjk, it's not the end xD Well, it is. But it's not. I did say that I was going to carry this on into the Insurgent time period and I will. But it will be written in another story. It will be a sequel, if you like. Obviously not a one-shot sequel. It will be longer. Way longer.**

 **Review and tell me what you thought of this. It's crazy how much time I spent writing this chapter.**

 **I will let you all know when the sequel will be up, so don't worry. Take a break. Have a cup of coffee. Go for a walk. And while you do that, I will begin writing the sequel.**


	24. Sequel is Up

**Sequel is up!**

 **Look out for 'Praying For Miracles'. That is the name of my new story :)**


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